


Caught Up Together With Them In The Clouds

by Formula_Tea



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Accidents, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blackmail, Canonical Character Death, Drug Use, Mentions of miscarriage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 64,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formula_Tea/pseuds/Formula_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The date is 17th of August 2015.<br/>Ayrton Senna wakes from a vivid dream about a crash, twenty one years after he last had any business waking up at all, in a hotel in the East Midlands.<br/>This is New Fic.<br/>(Please read the warnings in the notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whispers of Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Right then. So this is New Fic.  
> First off, I need to say that this story does refer to Jules and the accident on a number of occasions. There are flash backs and dream sequences that tell of both Jules' accident and Ayrton's. These are all in italics for those who wish to just skip over them and there are warnings in the notes at the start of the chapter.  
> Secondly, I've tried to make this as realistic as possible (she says, before presenting a story about a guy who's come back from the dead, but you know what I mean). If there's anything that you think doesn't seem right, please let me know.
> 
> The first chapter starts with a dream sequence and has a flashback in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Just One Last Time - David Guetta

_It’s raining hard. That’s the first thing he notices. It’s not a problem though. He’s been in these kind of weather conditions before and he knows how to work with it. Ok, maybe it’s raining a little harder than what he’s driven in before, but he doesn’t doubt himself. Doubt leads to faults and, in this kind of weather, faults lead to death._

_They’ll probably call the race off soon. Just when he starts to get comfortable, no doubt._

_The second thing he notices, the thing that makes him lose confidence more than the fact it’s raining, is that this isn’t his car. Through the rain on his visor, he can see an unfamiliar steering wheel, unfamiliar gloves, and an unfamiliar car._

_That’s when the panic starts to set in. He struggles to remember where he is, what race is even happening. Memories of people and places he’s never seen before are foggy in his mind, voices he’s never heard before drifting in and out of his brain._

_His breath echoes back at him, the sound of the rain splattering against his visor and a car that’s far too quiet for what he’s used to mixing with it and making him panic even more._

_The panic doesn’t do anything to the car, though, and it’s only then that he realises he’s not in control. And it’s not the same out of control as when he’s let a wheel slip off of the track and the entire car lurches over. This is completely out of control. He tests his theory by trying to move onto a cleaner line, but he can’t force his arms to make the move. When he tries to slow down in the wrong places, his foot won’t lift. The fingers in the unfamiliar gloves press buttons without his say so and he can’t stop them. It’s not that he doesn’t have control of the car, he doesn’t have control of his own body._

_That’s even if this is his body, he thinks, and the thought makes him mentally shiver. He doesn’t like what’s going on. Everything is wrong._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the sight of yellow flags and he can’t help the feeling of relief. Under normal circumstances, he’d be a little annoyed, the rain giving him an advantage he would like to enjoy from time to time. But these are very much not normal circumstances, and he just wants to get out of the car as soon as possible and find out what’s going on. Hopefully the yellow will turn to red soon enough and he can find out what’s wrong with him._

_But the car doesn’t slow down. He tries everything he can think of to get the car, his body under control. But it still won’t do what he wants it to do. The car slips and slides on the water and there’s absolutely nothing he can do to stop it. He just wishes whoever was in control of his body would let him take his foot off of the accelerator because this is too fast and he’s going to get into trouble._

_The car skids again, flying off of the track towards a small group of people in orange and a crane-_

Ayrton woke with a start.

It had been ages since he dreamt about a crash. They came every once in a while and he was pretty sure it was the same for all the other drivers on the grid. Never had one ever been so vivid, though, and Ayrton was physically shaking as he sat up in the hotel bed, trying to push the dream out of his head.

The hotel room was so bland and ordinary that Ayrton didn’t notice for a couple of moments that he didn’t actually recognise it, the spinning in his head occupying his thoughts. He must have drunk… a lot the night before. He couldn’t even remember it, so it must have been good. Good for someone, he thought as he carefully attempted standing up, only for his legs to tremble so hard he had to sit back down. Definitely not good for him.

Had he… won? Was he celebrating? Ayrton couldn’t remember a thing about the previous day. No drinking, no club, not even a race.

Dear Lord, how much had he drunk?

Carefully, Ayrton tried standing again, deciding a shower was probably the best plan of action, then he would go and see if there was someone about who could tell him what was going on.

By the time he’d finished in the shower, his head was a little less fuzzy. He still couldn’t remember anything from the night before – or the entire day before, if he were honest – but he was able to stand without the entire room spinning, so he guessed that was a positive.

Clothes were the next problem. It was freezing, the drizzle pestering the window reminding him a lot of England. But the last Ayrton could remember – granted, his memory wasn’t his greatest ally at the moment, but it couldn’t be _that_ bad – he’d been in Italy.

He really needed to find out what happened last night.

Which would probably be a lot easier if he could find any clothes. His usual luggage wasn’t anywhere in the room, not hidden away in a cupboard or under the bed. The wardrobe was bare, as were the draws in the bedside cabinet. All he had were the jogging bottoms and t-shirt he’d slept in. It just kept getting better and better.

At least he hadn’t thrown up in the night, he thought as he left the hotel room, dressed in his bed clothes and barefooted.

A man who looked a little younger than Ayrton walked briskly past, his attention on something in his hands. He didn’t even look up at Ayrton as he passed, but the man still sent a shiver down his spine.

Ayrton watched him go to the lift midway up the corridor, the thing in the younger man’s hand taking up so much of his attention that he didn’t notice Ayrton staring. He had the same eyes. And nose. Ayrton was sure he’d know them anywhere. They were Alain’s.

Well, this man wasn’t Alain. Definitely not. A relative of some kind, but not one Ayrton had ever seen about before. And why would one of Alain Prost’s relatives be here – wherever “here” was?

Ayrton waited until the lift doors had closed before tracing the mysterious man’s footsteps and calling for the lift. He probably should have asked him what had happened the night before, but the familiarity of the stranger had caught Ayrton off guard. Maybe if Alain’s mystery relative was here, Alain would be here too. He’d have to know what had happened.

 

“Do you have to be on your phone all the time?” Alain asked as Nico joined him for breakfast. Sometimes he felt like his son was turning fourteen tomorrow, not thirty four but, eventually, Nico put his mobile back in his pocket and looked down at the menu his father had offered him.

“You better not be planning anything for my birthday,” Nico said. He’d seen what the fans had done to poor Lucas last week. He didn’t want his dad to get any ideas about doing that to him. He just wanted to go through their testing plan and get home as soon as possible. He knew he would have to be back at the circuit this time next week, but the few days at home were something to look forward to.

“I’m not,” Alain said, but the smile on his face said otherwise.

“Seriously,” Nico said. “If you do anything for my birthday, I will not join the team.”

“And where else will you go, hmmm?” Alain asked, the smile growing a little.

“Maybe I have other teams asking for me,” Nico said. “You did not think of that, did you?”

“Which teams?” Alain asked, knowing his son was bluffing.

“Does not matter,” Nico said, but he could see something behind him had caught his father’s eye, and he spun around to see what it was.

 

Ayrton had stopped as soon as he spotted him and now the waitress was trying to lead him to a table but he couldn’t work out how to move his feet. Tears pricked his eyes and he was holding his breath, trying to shock himself awake, but it wasn’t working.

It was Alain.

No- it _was_ Alain. It couldn’t be, because the man sat on the other side of the dining room was a good twenty years older than Alain, those twenty years creasing his face and greying his hair. But, somehow, it was him.

Alain looked up from the mysterious man Ayrton had followed down, his eyes landing on Ayrton. Within seconds, Alain was as white as a sheet, his mouth hanging open.

_The car just didn’t want to do what he wanted it to, and every meter needed more and more strength and willpower to keep the car under control. Another corner came and Ayrton was beginning to dread them now. Tamburello swooped the track to the left but the car declined to follow it, continuing on across the track and-_

 

“No.”

Ayrton was shaking his head, staring at Alain whilst his old teammate stared back at him as if he’d seen a ghost.

It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.

 

Nico turned back to his father as the stranger darted from the dining room, smiling to the waitress who had just brought the two of them coffee. Alain blinked stupidly at the now empty doorway, beginning to feel a little light headed.

“Dad?” Nico called, laughing a little. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Alain said, shaking himself to try to regain some composure. He must have just imagined it. It had been years since he had imagined something like that, but there wasn’t any other explanation. He was probably just overworked. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Nico nodded, not entirely convinced.

“That man looked exactly like Ayrton, didn’t he dad,” he mused, adding a little more milk to his coffee. “Isn’t that odd?”

Alain stared at his son. “You saw him too?”

“Yes,” Nico said, slowly. Some days he wondered if he should worry about his dad’s mental health in his old age…

Alain jumped up, knocking over his cup of coffee and making Nico bounce back in his chair. Before Nico could ask what was going on, his father was racing out of the dining room, following the man who _could not_ be Ayrton. Nico sighed and apologised to the startled waitress before following his father out. Yes, he definitely should be worrying about his dad’s mental health in his old age…


	2. Our Hands Will Get More Wrinkled And Our Hair Will Be Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief flashback to Ayrton's crash but that's it.  
> Title from Prayer In C - Lilly Woods & the Prick

By the time Alain found him, Ayrton was outside, by the bins at the side of the hotel, throwing up.

Alain leaned against the wall, the light headedness only getting worse after his short run. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Ayrton – or whoever the man was – watching him heave and bring up a nasty green bile.

It couldn’t be true. Ayrton was sure it wasn’t. It couldn’t be true because how could he be here if it was? There were no such thing as ghosts (beside the Holy Ghost, of course, but that was something else entirely) and even if there were, he couldn’t be one because he wasn’t-

_The track disappeared off to the left whilst the wall got closer and closer and, no matter how much he tried to slow down, the car wouldn’t stop…_

Ayrton heaved again but there was nothing more in his stomach to come.

He was dead. Or… or he _had_ been dead. Or something. None of this made any sense and the fact someone who looked an awful lot like an older version of his former teammate was stood there gawping at him wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Alain opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. There was too much trying to make it’s way out, too many reactions for his body to know what to do with. Confusion and fear and paranoia because this _had_ to be a trick, didn’t it? Some god awful prank but _why_?

“Why?” Alain finally uttered.

Ayrton paused mid heave, almost choking on the vomit. The dark look he shot at Alain only made the older man shiver and the anger that had started to bubble rose.

“Why what?” Ayrton asked, wiping spit from his chin on the back of his hand.

Something in Alain snapped and he pushed the prankster – because there was _no way_ he was going to believe this – against the wall. Ayrton easily pushed him away and Alain stumbled back into the bins.

“Do you think this is funny?” Alain snapped, tears stinging his eyes. Ayrton stared back at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“No, Alain, I-.”

“Do you think this is _funny_?” Alain yelled.

“It’s me, Alain,” Ayrton tried again.

Alain made to throw himself at Ayrton again, but Nico appeared before he could do something stupid, putting himself between Ayrton and Alain. Alain crumped into Nico a little, Nico having to grab hold of the bin again to steady them both,

“Are you alright?” Nico asked, quietly. “Dad?”

Alain nodded, pushing himself away from Nico with shaking hands. He gulped back tears of anger and grief, glaring at the floor. He just wished this… _idiot_ would have the decency to leave now he’d done what he’d come to do.

“Nicolas?” Ayrton asked, uncertainly approaching. Nico spun around and the look on his face made Ayrton stop in his tracks.

“You remember me, don’t you?” Ayrton said. “It’s me. It’s Ayrton.”

“Ayrton?” Nico asked. “Are you serious?”

“It’s true. You _have_ to believe me.”

“You have had your joke, now go,” Alain said, still not looking up from the floor.

“This is not a joke,” Ayrton said, trying to keep his own voice calm whilst tears began to drip down his cheeks. He felt as if he’d woken up in another dimension and maybe he had. Maybe that explained why he felt so awful and he couldn’t remember getting here. “Please, Alain. I don’t know what has happened or what is going on and I don’t know what to do and you have to help me.”

Alain looked up when Ayrton choked back a sob. Would this be too far for some jokester to go? Probably not.

“You’re not him,” Alain whispered. “I refuse to believe it.”

“But it’s true,” Ayrton said. “Let me convince you.”

Neither Prost replied. Ayrton took another step forward and, when Alain didn’t react, he took that as permission to continue.

Nico watched Ayrton lean over to whisper something in Alain’s ear, which made Alain’s eyes grow wide and his mouth fall open again. Ayrton looked a little scared as he pulled away. If this didn’t convince Alain then he didn’t know what would.

“But you can’t know that,” Alain said.

“Now do you believe me?” Ayrton asked.

Alain shook his head a little. He couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be true. No, nobody but Ayrton could have said what he had just said, but it wasn’t _possible._ There had to be a more reasonable explanation than this.

“It cannot be true. It is not possible.”

“Well, if you have some other explanation, Alain, I would like to hear it,” Ayrton snapped.

Alain frowned, the snap unexpected for some reason. He tried to come up with some reasonable explanation, something that was actually possible. But there was nothing.

Maybe this was a dream. A really strange dream.

“Ok,” he said quietly.

“You believe me?” Ayrton asked, relief clear in his voice.

“I cannot come up with another explanation,” Alain said.

“This can’t be true,” Nico jumped in. Maybe his father really had gone insane. “People do not just come back from the dead.”

Ayrton winced, his stomach turning again and he stepped away from Alain in case he was going to be sick again. That was it then. It was true. Any doubt he could have had was gone now.

He was pretty sure he should have been feeling some kind of… grief. Maybe grief wasn’t the right word, but something. He was dead. Everything he had ever worked for had been wiped away by that wall. And now he was here, in some other dimension or some other time and that meant… that meant everything he knew about the afterlife was wrong too, didn’t it?

His legs were shaking again now and he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said, quietly, his eyes closed. “But I _am_ here.”

“You _cannot_ be here,” Nico said. “It is not possible. Is there a _reason_?”

“I don’t know,” Ayrton said again, pushing himself away from the wall. He wasn’t comfortable with the fact that this was Nico – Nico who had been a child when he had last seen him. With everything else that was going on, Ayrton was sure there were weirder things to come, but just the sight of Nico made his head hurt.

“So there is no reason?” Nico said. He turned to his father. “I do not believe you are going along with this.”

Ayrton looked between Nico and Alain. He had to say something to stop Alain changing his mind.

“I feel… I feel as if I have woken up in a new world,” he began. “I do not know how to explain it, and that is the best I can come up with. I do not remember yesterday. Or the day before. There was a race… and a crash. Everything between then and waking up this morning is just not there.”

He couldn’t think of another way to explain it. Nico bit his lip and shook his head. This couldn’t be true and he couldn’t believe his brain was even considering this.

“This cannot be true,” he said again.

“Well it is,” Ayrton said.

“It’s true,” Alain said, surprising both Ayrton and Nico. “Nico, just trust me.”

“You’re mad,” Nico said. “This is all mad.”

“ _Trust me_ ,” Alain said again. “It’s true. But _how_?”

“We are going around in circles,” Ayrton said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I don’t know anything.”

“We do not have time for this,” Nico said, beginning to get more than a little frustrated. He couldn’t believe he was going to go along with this, but convincing his father seemed to be hopeless and he didn’t entirely _not_ believe it himself. “What are we going to do now?”

“What do you mean?” Ayrton asked. “We have to get this sorted out.”

Nico shook his head. “We are not going to get this sorted out before we have to leave for preseason testing,” he said. It was hardly the most important thing in the world right now. Nico was beginning to believe he was talking to a dead man and it was probably more important to go and see a doctor.

“Testing for what?” Ayrton asked. “You race?” A smile flickered onto his face and, for a moment, Alain could imagine the entire situation wasn’t insane. “That is the first thing that has happened today that doesn’t surprise me.”

“It’s… complicated,” Nico said, blushing a little, not wanting to get into details about his racing. It wasn’t important right now. “So, what do we do now?”

“You cannot come to testing,” Alain said, definitely. He was beginning to feel like this wasn’t a dream, and if it wasn’t a dream then he definitely wasn’t coming to testing.

“Why not?” Nico asked. “It can hardly make any of this any worse?”

Alain stared at him for a couple of moments, trying to figure out if he was joking or not, because Nico had a sense of humour that Alain didn’t always understand. But it looked like Nico was being serious.

“Why not?” Alain asked again. “You really think that would be a good idea, do you?”

“Well…” Now that he thought about it, it probably wasn’t the best idea. At least not when they didn’t have any kind of explanation that didn’t make them look absolutely crazy, when the fans and the press that were at the track would want one. He looked down at the floor and kicked at it weakly, a little embarrassed. “No… but Bruno would want to see him, wouldn’t he?”

“Bruno’s there?” Ayrton asked, suddenly a lot more interested in the test. “ _My_ Bruno?”

“No,” Alain said, definitely, knowing what Ayrton was thinking. “You cannot go to testing.”

“If he’s there then I want to see him,” Ayrton said. He wanted to see his family again. He’d apparently come back from the dead after God knew how long and he needed to see them. And the last person who was going to stop him was Alain Prost.

“No,” Alain said. “Think about it. We do not know why you are here or how you got here. We do not know how long you are going to be here. What if you disappear back to wherever you reappeared from?”

The words stumbled from Alain’s mouth before he even had a chance to think about them. It hadn’t really occurred to him that this wasn’t permanent, but there was nothing to say it was. Any moment now things could go back to the way they had been the day before.

“Well, if I am about to disappear, I should see them as soon as possible,” Ayrton said. It would be what he would want, if it were ever the other way around. A chance to see someone he cared about one more time and say everything he had forgotten to say to them.

“You do that, and you are going to make him lose you again,” Alain said, shaking his head. _He_ was going to lose him again, if Ayrton suddenly disappeared. The thought of it made him cringe a little, but he’d managed last time. He could do it again.

Ayrton’s face fell as he realised Alain was right. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“I want to see my family again,” he said, quietly.

“I know,” Alain said, nodding. “Right, you will wait in my room. If you have not disappeared by the time we come back from testing, we will figure something out.”

“If I’m here then, you think I’m here for good?” Ayrton asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Alain asked. It wasn’t as if this was something he had encountered before. “But if you are here then, then I think it is more likely you are here for good.”

“Alright,” Ayrton said. If it did turn out this wasn’t permanent for some reason, he didn’t want to hurt anyone he didn’t have to. “I’ll stay here.”


	3. On A Summer Day When You Were Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from I love it - Icona Pop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of Jules near the beginning (not a flashback or anything)
> 
> Also, I added pregnancy to the tags because BABY PROST and if you think I'm going to miss an opportunity to write about a small child then you do not know me at all.

“Hey Nick! I had this _really_ weird dream last night.”

Nick groaned. Not this again.

His team mate was grinning as he came into the garage, team jacket on over his overalls to protect him from the bitter British weather. Nick pushed himself so he was sat up on top of one of the tool boxes, waiting to hear another wild story.

“I was playing chess,” Bruno said. “With the grim reaper.”

For a moment, Nick was surprised, but it quickly wore off. When Bruno came in every week with a new weird dream to share, the surprise never lasted long.

“That’s not the weirdest bit, though,” Bruno said, scared his dream wasn’t going to get the amount of awe it deserved. “Ok, so you know- you play chess, don’t you?”

“I have played chess yes,” Nick said.

“Just checking. You know how when you get a pawn across the board, you can change the piece,” Bruno explained. “You get a queen back or a bishop or whatever? Well, I get this pawn across the board over to the grim reaper’s side, and I swap it for a knight. I don’t remember losing the knight but apparently I did. But I looked down at the pawn and it wasn’t a normal chess piece. It was Jules.”

Nick looked up, surprised, but it didn’t look like Bruno was finished yet.

“So the grim reaper took Jules and… I don’t know, put him in his pocket or something,” Bruno continued. “And then he put the knight on the table. But it wasn’t a knight, like the pawn, you know. It was Ayrton.”

He held out his hands to show that he was finished. His grin had fallen into a small smile now and he ignored the shiver down his spine the dream gave him. His mother had said he should probably go to somebody about his dreams, see if he could find out what they meant, but Bruno had never bothered. It was just his imagination and he guessed the events of the past couple of months had finally caught up with his subconsciousness.

Nick just stared at him for a couple of moments before shaking his head and hopping off of the tool box.

“Do you ever have _not_ weird dreams?” he asked. He didn’t like the sad little smile on his team mate’s face.

“Yes,” Bruno said, mock offended. Nick almost smiled about how easy it was to get him back to normal. “Yesterday I had a dream where I wanted mint ice cream, but they didn’t have any, so I bought pistachio because they were both green, but it didn’t taste like mint, and I was sad.”

Nick just shook his head again, smiling down at the floor. If this kept up, he had a feeling he was going to have an interesting season ahead of him.

 

Nico couldn’t focus. He was sat at the back of the garage whilst the team got ready for the first few runs before the lunch break. The engineers had been talking to him for a while when he realised he hadn’t heard a word any of them had said, blinking stupidly when they asked him a question. The engineers looked between one another, used to a less than cheerful driver, but not normally one this quiet.

“Is everything ok?” the chief engineer said, resting a hand on Nico’s arm and making him jump a little.

“Yes, yes, sorry,” Nico said, quickly. “I just… have a lot on my mind.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be here, at testing. He knew he couldn’t just abandon the test day. It would only raise people’s suspicions and he knew that that was only going to get all three of them into trouble. But he was the one who was going to have to come up with a solution if Ayrton was still there when they got back in the evening. He knew his father had been in no state that morning to come up with anything and Ayrton seemed absolutely clueless about everything. He was the one who was going to have to step up to the job, and wasting his time testing on a track that wasn’t even representative wasn’t going to help.

“Maybe you should get yourself another cup of coffee,” the engineer suggested. “We’ll come and finish this up later.”

Nico nodded, letting the team drift off to go and find something else to spend their time doing. He was about to get up and follow his engineer’s suggestion when Sebastien fell into the seat that had just been vacated.

“Where were you this morning?” he asked. “I thought you, me, and your dad were supposed to be having breakfast. I know I was late down, but there was no need to disappear.”

“Oh,” Nico said. He’d completely forgotten about his team mate, with everything that had happened. “We bumped into… one of Dad’s old friends.”

Nico had to cringe even as he said it.

“And you could not tell me about the change of plan?” Sebastien asked. “Fine. Is this friend coming to your birthday part- oh.”

“Birthday party?” Nico cried.

From across the garage, Alain’s head whipped round. “ _Sebastien._ ”

“Sorry,” Sebastien said, standing and holding his hands up in a surrender.

“You’re throwing me a birthday party?” Nico cried. What part of he didn’t want anything couldn’t his father understand?

“It’s not every day you turn thirty four, is it?” Alain said, crossing the garage so he didn’t have to shout.

“Thirty _four_ ,” Sebastien said, laughing. “You told me you were going to be thirty two.”

“Don’t you have something you should be doing,” Nico said through gritted teeth. A bright rose colour had begun to fill his cheeks and his team mate’s laughter was only making it brighter.

“Probably,” Sebastien said, the grin on his face saying he had no intention of leaving.

Nico looked between his team mate and his father, pretty sure he was being ganged up on by the two of them. He was not going to any stupid birthday party, and if his father was going to pull some stunt in front of the fans, then he was going to wherever Ayrton had come from.

“Can we talk about this later, please?” Nico asked. It was probably best to just focus on testing now and try to ignore the smirks from the less mature members of his team.

“Sure,” Alain said, handing him his helmet. “I don’t know what you’re expecting is going to happen. The venue is booked. The guests have been invited.”

“I’m not going,” Nico said.

“I thought you would say that,” Alain said.

“I take it this is why it was supposed to be a surprise,” Sebastien said.

“We’ll find a way to get him there, Seb, don’t worry,” Alain promised, patting Nico on the back before going to speak to the men in blue tabards at the edge of the pit.

 

It was almost eight o’clock by the time Alain and Nico made it back to the hotel. The journey would usually take place in silence, with Nico glued to his phone whilst his father tried to, and promptly gave up on, make conversation, but this time the driver of the car had to endure two angry French men bickering with each other. Sebastien had, wisely, decided to make his own way back to the hotel, which Nico was quite happy with. One less person to have to defend himself against.

“I know you were just trying to be nice, Dad,” he said for the fourth or fifth time (he’d lost count). He climbed out of the car after his father, saying a quick goodbye to the driver, before continuing his rant. “But it is not nice to do something you know I would not like.”

“You would love a birthday party,” Alain said. “You were always asking for one when you were a kid.”

“Yes, but I am not a kid,” Nico said. “I needed one when I was _eight_ , not now. I have a flight.”

“I rebooked it,” Alain said.

“Do you have to be so controlling all the time?” Nico snapped, making the woman at the front desk jump a little. He apologised quickly before pressing the button for the lift.

The day had actually gone quite well in the end. Besides a mechanical problem with Sebastien’s car, it had been a good day. The team looked as strong as it had done the year before, and Nico knew this year he would be aiming for a championship. He knew Sebastien would be too, but there wasn’t anything wrong with a bit of team mate rivalry, he thought.

“I am not being controlling Nico,” Alain said, following his son into the lift when it arrived.

“Of course not,” Nico said. “You just arranged all this behind my back even though you knew I didn’t want you to.”

“Is this just about the birthday party?” Alain asked. “Because you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, but then you and everybody else will just make me feel guilty next week if I don’t,” Nico said. “And I do not even have a flight now, do I?”

The lift doors slid open with a ping. Nico followed his father out, waiting for an answer, but Alain had suddenly gone very quiet. Surprisingly, it took Nico a few moments to figure out why.

Alain stopped a few doors down from his own hotel room, not entirely sure if he wanted to continue or not. That was ridiculous, of course. Continuing wasn’t going to change what had already happened. Knowing wasn’t going to change whether Ayrton was still _here_ or not.

“Dad?” Nico said, softly, standing at Alain’s side. “Do you want me to go ahead?”

He didn’t know what use it would do, but it was the only thing he could think of that might help a little.

Without saying a word, Alain nodded, and Nico left his side to go to the door, only for Alain to burst past him a moment later and beat him, practically throwing the room door open.

The small suite was empty. Nico silently watched his father check the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He could see Alain getting more and more worried as he wandered about the suite.

“Ayrton?” he called, not wanting to speak too loudly. The walls in hotels were always thinnest when you didn’t want anybody to hear you.

Nobody answered. Ayrton was gone.

Nico looked down at the floor when he felt Alain’s gaze turn to him, still stood by the door. He bit his lip, trying to think of something to say. If it were him, he knew nothing would be good enough.

Alain sat down heavily on the bed, staring down at his hands. When Nico did look up again, he couldn’t quite tell if his father was crying or not.

“Dad?”

“I’m fine, Nico,” Alain said, not looking up. They’d done the right thing. There was no need to upset anybody else. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Nico said, sitting down beside Alain and putting an arm over his father’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback always welcome!


	4. This is the end station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Just one last time - David Guetta

Nico didn’t know how long they’d been sitting in silence when his father spoke again. It could only have been half a minute, but it felt like forever.

“It’s probably for the best,” Alain said, quietly. People weren’t supposed to come back from the dead and, when they did, it would probably cause more problems than good. Even if dead people not being dead _wasn’t_ because of some kind of doomsday, Alain couldn’t imagine they would have too much fun. A million and one people would want to come and speak to them: doctors, scientists, politicians, and money makers. Bernie Ecclestone would have been the first person knocking on their door if he had ever found out. No, it was probably better for everyone that Ayrton had gone back to wherever he had come from.

“What do you want me to do?” Nico asked, softly.

“I’m fine,” Alain tried to insist, but Nico shook his head.

“You’re not,” he said again. “Do you want me to phone Nelson?”

He knew Nelson had a way of cheering up his father which Nico didn’t entirely understand.

“We are _not_ getting Nelson fucking Piquet involved in this before I even know what is going on.”

Both Prosts’ heads shot up as the room door slammed shut. Ayrton stood with a plastic pot of salad, still wearing the clothes he had woken up with. Alain’s mouth fell open, much like it had done that morning.

“You’re alive?” Alain whispered, standing.

“Yes, I thought we’d established this fact this morning,” Ayrton said.

“You’re _still_ alive,” Alain said, speaking a little louder this time.

“We thought you had disappeared,” Nico explained, standing slightly in front of his father in case Alain decided to launch at Ayrton again. “That you had gone back to where you came from.”

“Oh,” Ayrton said, quietly, realising what he had made them think. “I was only gone a couple of minutes.”

“ _Where_ did you go?” Alain said, catching up with what was going on and realising what Ayrton had done. “I told you to wait _here_.”

Nico turned around to roll his eyes. What was that about not being controlling?

“It is eight o’clock at night,” Ayrton pointed out. “I have been in here all day. Just because I am _dead_ , does not mean I do not get hungry.”

He held up the plastic pot of salad to show what he meant. Alain looked between the pot and Ayrton, that dumb struck look on his face that Ayrton was beginning to get used to now.

“Where did you get that?” Alain asked, quietly, pointing to the pot.

“Well, I went to the shop,” Ayrton explained. “But then I couldn’t find any money here, could I? I told the shop keeper I was a dead racing driver and he believed me. Made me sign a few things and took pictures.” Ayrton couldn’t stop himself from grinning as Alain’s eyes grew wider and wider. “I called the front desk, Alain. Believe it or not, I’m not an idiot. They were very happy to help out “Mr Prost’s guest”. I’ve been out of the room for two minutes.”

Nico grinned. He’d decided he quite liked Ayrton, especially the way he so easily wound up his father.

“How was testing?” Ayrton asked, turning to Nico. He offered the younger Prost some of the salad, but Nico refused.

“Not too bad,” Nico said. “We are looking like we might be at the front again. But this is not definite. We do not know what everybody else is doing.”

“Never mind how testing was,” Alain said, trying not to raise his voice. “Did anybody recognise you?”

“Not that I could tell,” Ayrton said, picking through the pot with a plastic fork. “I am not going to be able to stay in this room forever, Alain. We need to come up with something to say if somebody _does_ recognise me.”

He hadn’t disappeared, like Alain had thought he would. He’d laid on the bed, waiting for it to happen, curious to see where he would disappear too. But it hadn’t happened. He’d fallen into a dreamless sleep at one point, but that had been it.

He’d had a lot of time to think whilst he’d been cooped up in the hotel room. Mentally, he’d made a list of the people he wanted to see again, mostly family members and people who were so close they may as well have been family. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to disappear, he didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t be allowed to. He knew it would be a shock for them, after all this time, but once that had worn off, it would be worth it.

The newspapers that had been brought up when he asked, and the fact everyone who worked at the hotel appeared to be English, told him where he was, and the dates on the papers told him when.

Twenty one years. Just looking at Alain and Nico he’d been able to figure out it had been about that long since the accident, but seeing it printed had made Ayrton feel sick all over again. It didn’t make any sense why he was back _now_. Why so late after he’d died. Maybe if it were the week after, or even a year, things would make a little more sense, but twenty one? And it wasn’t even the anniversary, it was the middle of August (which didn’t explain why they were doing preseason testing if it was the middle of the season either, unless that had changed as well, but that was a very minor issue).

The newspapers hadn’t helped answer any of Ayrton’s questions, or helped him come up with any of his own.

“What do we do?” Ayrton asked, when neither Prost said anything.

“You’d need a new identity,” Nico said. “Like a spy.”

“Oh yes, let me just pull one of those out of a hat,” Alain muttered. “A stranger shows up out of the blue, no background, no history, no identification. Just _happens_ to look exactly like Ayrton Senna. Not even a secret love child would be a plausible explanation for that.”

“A secret love child?” Ayrton repeated. “I’ve been back from the dead a day and we’re already ruining my reputation?”

“I said we are _not_ going to go with that,” Alain said.

“No, I think that would be a good idea,” Nico said.

Alain and Ayrton both turned and looked at him as if he were insane, but Nico had a plan forming now.

“Well, there is not going to be any better explanation than genetics, is there?” Nico pointed out. “And it would explain why nobody has ever heard about you, because who would want to ruin your reputation with something like a secret love child?”

Nico smiled a little smugly, quite happy he’d managed to solve the problem. He could see his father was already coming around to the idea – from lack of any other plans, but coming around all the same – but Ayrton still looked horrified by the plan.

“It would still not explain why he has no history,” Alain said. “You cannot even get a passport without a birth certificate, can you?”

“We would be able to find someone who could work around that, I am sure,” Nico said.

Alain gaped at him for a moment, then shook his head. “You spend too much time on your phone. We are not in some action film, Nico.”

“He is not going to have a birth certificate whoever we decide he is,” Nico pointed out. “At least this solution addresses the problem that can be addressed.”

“I am still here, you know,” Ayrton pointed out. “And I am _not_ claiming that I had a secret love child.”

He could only imagine there would be uproar if something like that had come out when he were alive, let alone now. And wouldn’t this start a wave of lies, all sorts of people coming out of the woodwork in search of money, and he wouldn’t be able to defend himself in the slightest.

“Well, what would you propose?” Nico asked. He couldn’t come up with anything better, and he doubted anybody else would either. It was practically genius.

“I do not see why there has to be some elaborate scheme,” Ayrton said. “Why don’t we just tell them the truth?”

“Because you tell them the truth they will put you in a home for crazy people,” Alain said. “People do not just come back from the dead, Ayrton. I thought you would have realised that. Even if they did believe you, and _I_ would not even have believed you if you had not said what only you could have said, then what? People will want to know _why_ you are back, Ayrton, and you do not even know.”

“So I tell them I do not know,” Ayrton said. “They can do tests and they will find out I am not lying. I am _not_ ruining my reputation-.”

“You would ruin your life to save yourself the embarrassment of having a child?” Alain said.

“A _secret_ child,” Ayrton stressed. “If I had a child I would not want _anybody_ to think I was ashamed of it. Whether it came from a secret relationship or not, I would be _proud_ of any child of mine. I cannot let anybody think otherwise.”

Alain stared at Ayrton in disbelief for a couple of moments, but Ayrton was growing bored of that now.

“Why do you care so much about what other people think?” Alain asked. He shook his head and held his hand up before Ayrton could answer, not really wanting to know. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t tell them who you really are. This is the only alternative.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“We are not arguing about this,” Alain said.

“I do not see why this is your decision,” Ayrton snapped. None of this had anything to do with Alain and Ayrton was beginning to curse his luck that he could come back from the dead and still end up stuck with Prost. Of all the people in the world who could have found him, it was Prost.

“Fine,” Alain snapped back, holding up his hands. “It’s not my decision. But do not come crying to me when this all goes wrong for you because I do not want to hear it.”


	5. Learned Our Lessons Through the Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from The Nights

Alain was alone and he didn’t know where Ayrton was. Nico slipped away about ten minutes after Ayrton, claiming he’d agreed to have dinner with Sebastien. Alain had just let him go. If Ayrton didn’t screw this all up then they needed to carry on as normal, and that meant Nico having dinner with his teammate.

That had been nearly an hour ago now.

Sitting glaring at the wall wasn’t helping at all, so Alain had gone to take a shower, trying to think about anything else that might calm himself down a little, but it wasn’t working. Alain just couldn’t understand how anybody could be so stubborn and stupid.

Over and over again, Alain replayed the conversation, getting more and more annoyed every time. He knew he probably shouldn’t have been so controlling. That was never going to end well. But the situation had called for it. The world had changed a lot in twenty years and sometimes even Alain struggled to keep up. It was a different place to where Ayrton had left and he didn’t seem to understand how it worked.

Somebody was going to get hurt, and Alain had just been trying to stop that. He also knew he shouldn’t have lost his rag. He was the more mature one, and he should have acted like it. Tried to explain himself better. Maybe it would be better if he… No. He was _not_ going to give in. Ayrton could figure this mess out for himself.

 

Nico knocked quietly on the door. He was sure this was the right room, on the floor above his father’s and a few doors down from his own room. He was sure this had been where he’d seen him before, but Nico couldn’t say that he’d really been paying attention then…

There was no answer. Nico couldn’t even be certain Ayrton would have come back here, but he figured this was the best place to check first.

“Ayrton?” Nico said, softly, knocking the door again. “Dad’s not here. It’s just me.”

Nico waited again, trying to decide where would be best to check next if Ayrton wasn’t here. Maybe he’d gone down to the front desk again, or out to find Bruno.

Nico was deciding how best to ask Bruno if he’d happened to have seen Ayrton wondering around the hotel _without_ convincing his friend he was absolutely insane when he heard the key in the door turning. He jumped back as Ayrton opened the door a crack. When the Brazilian had seen Alain wasn’t there, he opened the door a little further and let Nico inside.

“If he has sent you here, you’re wasting your time,” he said.

“He hasn’t,” Nico said, quickly. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Ayrton looked a little shocked at that, but Nico didn’t bother to find out the reason.

“I know he is a little controlling sometimes,” Nico said. He was pretty sure he knew better than anybody that his father could be more than a little controlling. “But he is just trying to help.”

Ayrton just shook his head, taking a seat in the single chair in the room. “I do not know why I’m surprised,” he said. “It has been twenty years and he has not changed a bit.”

Nico wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. He didn’t even know why he’d come here but he knew he couldn’t let Ayrton do something stupid. He’d seen how upset his father had been when they’d thought Ayrton had disappeared and he knew Alain would only blame himself if Ayrton ended up in trouble. Nico didn’t want to see his father upset again.

“Well, I do not know about that,” Nico admitted. He’d not exactly been paying much attention to his father as a teenager. “But I know he is not exactly easy to live with. Or work with.”

Nico was pretty sure he knew that better than anybody. Well… maybe he’d met somebody who could match that.

“Whatever I choose to do, I have to make the decision,” Ayrton said. “It is important, Nicolas, and that is something your father does not understand.”

“And he is trying to take over,” Nico said. “Well…” He rubbed the back of his head, blushing a little. “I guess I did not really help.”

“No,” Ayrton admitted. “But it is ok. I think maybe you can understand where I am coming from.”

There was a small smile on Ayrton’s face that made Nico squirm a little. He couldn’t figure out what it meant and it didn’t make him feel comfortable.

“I understand needing to be in control,” Nico said, slowly. “But I don’t understand everything.”

“You still think I should claim I kept a child a secret for over ten years?” Ayrton asked. The smile on his face was gone now.

“I don’t think we- _you._ I don’t think _you_ have much of a choice,” Nico admitted. “You can’t just tell the truth. Dad was right.”

“Why?” Ayrton asked, folding his arms. He knew there would be outcomes that weren’t exactly great, but it was preferable to the only suggested alternative.

“ _Because_ ,” Nico said, and he didn’t understand why this wasn’t going through to Ayrton. “You’re dead.”

Ayrton rested the urge to roll his eyes, but only just “I am aware of this fact, Nicolas.”

“But I don’t think you are,” Nico said. “People don’t just come back from the dead. They’ll be all sorts of conspiracy theories. Firstly that you are not who you say you are and, when they find out that you are telling the truth, that you were never really dead. Even if they accept the fact you were, they will ask you all sorts of questions, about what it’s like to be dead, what happened after. About God. Then there will be the people who will only be there to make money, though I am pretty sure there will be a fair few of those if we do decide to go down the alternative path. There will be thousands. You will not get to live any kind of life at all. And then what will this do to your reputation? You will not be a racing driver. People will not remember you for that. If you go down this path, you will be remembered as the man who came back from the dead. Is that worse than maybe being known for a year or two as the man who had a child nobody knew about. That is not even a scandal these days.”

Nico finished, a little breathless. He really hoped that was enough because, if it wasn’t, there was nothing else he could do, and maybe there was no hope in getting through to him.

Ayrton was silent for a while once Nico had finished, and Nico hoped that meant he was thinking about this properly.

“People really won’t care that much?” Ayrton asked after a while. “About a child?”

“Maybe at the beginning,” Nico admitted. He wasn’t going to lie. That wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “But after a year or two, it will probably only be a line on Wikipedia.”

“On what?”

“It does not matter,” Nico said. There were a lot of things he was going to have to explain to Ayrton, and Nico made a mental note to write a list when he finally got back to his room. “People will not care after a while. Not like if you told the truth. I promise.”

He smiled gently, hoping he had reassured Ayrton a little. Ayrton smiled back, beginning to blush a little himself.

“You can tell you’re not a child anymore,” he said.

 

“I have allergies,” Bruno insisted, looking over the menu again, half hoping at least one of the dishes changed to something he might find appetising. Disappointed as, once again, magic failed to prove its existence, Bruno put the menu down.

“What kind of allergies?” Nick asked. He couldn’t be allergic to everything on the menu. “Didn’t they check before they booked us in here that you could eat something on the menu.”

“Maybe,” Bruno said. “Maybe I can ask them if they could do something off of the menu.”

“You can’t ask them to do something off of the menu,” Nick cried. “That’s really rude.”

“I cannot eat any of this,” Bruno said. He knew there was one meal but he couldn’t stomach the thought of it. Not olives. Maybe he could ask them to take the olives out? Would that even be possible?

“Are you really that picky?” Nick asked, but he knew what the answer would be. The same answer he got every time he asked:

“ _I have allergies_.”

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Sebastien asked, stopping Nick from bringing the conversation around in a circle again. He’d been sat across the dining room for twenty minutes waiting for Nico, but it looked like he’d been stood up. Again. He sure hoped this friend of Alain’s was keeping Nico entertained. “I have been ditched. Again.”

“Well, it doesn’t even look like Bruno is going to be eating here, so I’ll need the company,” Nick said.

“Thank you,” Sebastien said, pulling a chair over from the next table.

“I’ll have to ask them to take olives out,” Bruno mumbled to himself.

“Were you supposed to be meeting with Nico?” Nick asked.

“Yeah,” Sebastien muttered. “That’s who stood me up.”

“Are you going to his birthday party tomorrow?” Nick asked. “I heard there’s free alcohol.”

“Of course I am going,” Sebastien said. “Though I do not even know if there is going to be a birthday party. I might have _accidentally_ let it slip to him.”

“Sebastien!” Nick and Bruno moaned in chorus. That would be it now. There was no chance anybody would be able to convince Nico to go to the birthday party if he actually knew what it was.

“Well, that explains why he was sat with such a sour face all day,” Bruno commented. “Even when I tried to tell him about my dream.”

“Oh do not start this again,” Nick muttered.

“What dream?” Sebastien asked and Nick groaned again.

“You had to ask…”


	6. I can't tell where the journey will end but I know where to start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Wake Me Up - Avicci

Alain was trying to sleep when there was a knock on his door. For a moment, he thought about pushing his head under the pillow and continuing his struggle to get to sleep, but decided against it. It could have been someone from the team and, as he’d neglected them pretty much all day today, it was probably best to see what they wanted.

It wasn’t somebody from the team.

“Ayrton?”

“Can I come in?” Ayrton asked. Alain stepped aside to let him in, and Ayrton took a seat on the now unmade bed. He didn’t like admitting Alain had been right, but sometimes you had to swallow your pride.

“Is there something you wanted?” Alain asked.

“You were right,” Ayrton admitted, speaking to the floor.

Talking with Nicolas was a lot easier than talking with Alain and, eventually, the two of them had come up with a kind of plan. Deciding who it would be ok to trust with the secret had taken some time, but Nicolas had eventually managed to convince Ayrton to keep it to just a few people. It had been his family he had been most worried about. Would they be willing to accept him if they weren’t told the truth? Nicolas had told him about a child it had been claimed he’d fathered – or as much as he knew about the story – and it had only made Ayrton worry more. He couldn’t risk being shoved away by them. He’d managed to convince Nicolas that his family would have to be told the truth. He could convince them to go along with the plan and he was sure it would convince a lot more people they were telling the truth if his family were there to back him up.

“I was _right_?” Alain repeated, a little shocked.

Ayrton nodded. “But I have to do this my own way, Alain. This is my life and I am not going to let you take it over.”

“Right then,” Alain said, stifling a sigh at Ayrton’s stubbornness. “What have you decided?”

 

Nick had taken to having breakfast a little early. It meant he could relax in the peace and quiet before the hotel dining room became overwhelmed with the team members that were staying there. He could sit with his coffee and his cooked breakfast and ease himself into the day slowly. Nothing too demanding or complicated. A calm and gentle start to the day.

Yesterday had been another good day. He’d had to remind himself at the end of the day that testing meant nothing, but the fact the car was _looking_ competitive could only be a good thing. Nick just had to hope his luck was as competitive as the car this year, and nobody decided to wipe him off of the track at the last corner.

Speaking of which…

Nico was the next to come into the dining room, but he shook his head when the waitress tried to show him a table, instead crossing the room to Nick.

“Do you know where Bruno is?” he asked.

“I do not have a tracking device on him, Nico,” Nick said. Nico frowned in confusion, the joke lost on him, and Nick sighed. “Won’t he still be in bed?”

“Tried there, no answer,” Nico said, beginning to get a little worried. There was no sign of Ayrton either. He was sure Ayrton wasn’t going to do something stupid, but if the two just bumped into each other…

“He’s probably still asleep,” Nick said. He wasn’t sure what Nico wanted him to say, if he were honest. “What can’t wait, anyway? Is it Delphine?”

“What? Oh, no. No, it’s nothing important,” Nico said, quickly. He’d have to try phoning him again and if that didn’t work he’d give up and help his father find Ayrton.

“I’ll see you at testing, yeah?” Nick called after Nico as he hurried out of the dining hall. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to his coffee. There was something going on with Nico, he was pretty sure, but it was none of his business and, if he needed to, he was going to go out of his way to make sure it stayed none of his business.

 

It had been the same dream again. Ayrton wasn’t sure what he liked the least, the actual crash or the lack of control. It was so vivid, different from any other dream of the kind he had ever had. Usually, it was himself in control of the car. It was braking a fraction of a second too late or another driver causing him to crash. Sometimes the car was out of his control, but through external factors, not because he couldn’t control _himself_. He didn’t understand it, nor did he like it.

But he had a strange feeling it had something to do with the reason he was here.

It hadn’t been too difficult for Ayrton to convince the hotel staff to let him use one of the smaller conference rooms, knowing staying in the room he had woken up in the day before would only lead to him being disturbed whenever Prost felt like it. He needed some time to think. There were new questions popping into his head all the time and he wanted to figure out some answers, at least for a few of them.

And there was one person he knew would know the answers to them. But even He was a question now.

“I’ve never questioned you before,” Ayrton said quietly. “I have never had any reason to. And in my mind I know I should not even now, but I cannot stop myself feeling the way I do. I am… confused. I know things cannot always be simple but… I’m dead. Or I _was_ dead. And I do not understand how I am not.”

There was no answer and Ayrton knew he shouldn’t have expected one, but he couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach when he looked up and found himself facing a blank wall. Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes and bowed his head again, trying to find the words to continue.

“I know you put me here for a reason, but I can’t figure out what that is. And I know you sent a sign but that does not make much more sense. Am I supposed to prevent it from happening? Am I supposed to comfort them? Please help me understand what you want me to do.”

“Ayrton? Are you in here?”

Ayrton sighed as his old team mate’s voice drifted in from the corridor. Was it too much to ask for a little time by himself?

He’d left a note under Alain’s door to tell them that he was going to be alright, and he hadn’t disappeared off the face of the planet like they’d thought when he’d gone down to find something to eat. Apparently that called for a full on search party, by the sound of it.

Alain found him with his head bowed and his eyes closed.

“Ayrton?”

“ _Yes_ , Alain?”

Alain smiled weakly when Ayrton opened his eyes, taking a seat next to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, quietly.

Ayrton nodded, even though he knew there were probably still tears in his eyes. “I’m fine. As fine as I can be.”

“If you don’t want to do this now, we can do it another time,” Alain said. He wasn’t sure what the problem was, but he was doing his best to try to make sure he wasn’t taking control. “We can do it tonight, if you want. It’s up to you.”

“I want to do it as soon as possible,” Ayrton said. He didn’t want to put it off any longer. He had wanted to do this the night before, but Alain had insisted it was too late by the time they’d talked over the plans.

“Right then,” Alain said. “Nico is just getting Bruno now. I’ll tell him to meet us here.”

 

Why was it always so cold? Bruno pulled the covers tighter around himself and attempted to bury his entire head in his pillow, pretty sure his nose was going to fall off due to frost bite or something. He thought it was supposed to be summer here? He didn’t think Britain could do summer if it tried.

On the bedside table, his phone buzzed and jingled, but Bruno ignored it. There were two alarms on his phone, one he could ignore and one he couldn’t. The first was a warning. Prepare to face the day. Bruno did no such preparation and moaned when the cold of the day hit him when he absolutely _had_ to get up.

“Bruno, I know you are in there. I can hear your phone. Answer the door.”

Nico?

Bruno just groaned and pulled the covers even tighter around himself. Why was his existence so necessary this early in the morning?

“Find someone else to sing happy birthday,” he called, his words muffled by the pillow his face was still buried in.

“Bruno open the door this is important,” Nico called.

What could be more important than sleep at this time in the morning?

“Fine!” Bruno huffed but, for a moment, he remained still, trying to find the enthusiasm to get out of bed. Taking the heavy duvet with him, Bruno shuffled across the room and opened the door, making sure Nico knew he was in no way “fine” with the wakeup call.

Nico rolled his eyes. “It is not that cold,” he said.

“Is,” Bruno mumbled, letting Nico inside before closing the door again. He flopped back down onto the bed and curled up in a ball, trying to protect himself from the cold.

“Is not,” Nico argued. “Come on. You need to get up.”

Bruno groaned again, Nico unable to see his face in the blankets he’d cocooned himself in. The Frenchman stood with his arms folded, but the unimpressed look on his face was lost on Bruno.

“There’s someone who wants to see you,” Nico said.

“There’s always someone who wants to see me,” Bruno mumbled. He had no commitments before six o’clock in the morning. There was no way Nico was getting him out of bed.

“Yes, but I think you will be pretty happy when you find out who it is,” Nico said, unable to stop himself smiling. He was doing a pretty good job of hiding his excitement, knowing how happy Bruno was going to be when he found out who was waiting down stairs.

“Who is it?” Bruno asked, sceptically. He peeked out from under the covers, trying to read Nico’s face. The smile on it just confused him more. “Nico? Who is it?”

“If I tell you now you won’t believe me,” Nico said, the grin growing. “Come on.”

Bruno couldn’t deny that he was curious. Who could be so surprising that Bruno wouldn’t believe Nico if he said he were here? He couldn’t think of someone Nico would think he would be _happy_ to see. He couldn’t think of someone that would put a smile like that on Nico’s face, either.

“Alright,” he muttered, slowly extracting himself from the pile of duvets and blankets. “Let me find a jumper.”


	7. I'm in pieces, pick me up, and put me together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a happy chapter! Savour it, there aren't many...
> 
> Chapter title from Avicii's The Days

In the silent room, Ayrton was sure he could hear his heart pounding. He didn’t know what he was so scared of, besides the terrifying possibility that Bruno wouldn’t believe him and he’d be rejected by his own family. Besides _that_ , there was nothing to worry about at all. Alain sat beside him, doing absolutely nothing to take his mind off of his fear, and Ayrton was beginning to wonder why he was there at all.

“I don’t know what is taking them so long,” Alain said, breaking the silence just as Ayrton wished he would. “Although…” He chuckled a little at the thought of it, leaning back in his chair. “Your nephew can be an ass to get out of bed.”

Ayrton smiled weakly back. He was trying to imagine what Bruno would be like but seeing how much Nico had grown since Ayrton had last seen him didn’t give him much hope of being accurate. It wasn’t just what he would look like, but everything about his nephew could have changed in twenty years. Ayrton was most likely going to be faced with a stranger and he was pretty sure he was just a little bit scared of that as well.

“I’m really proud of him, you know,” he said, quietly, trying to reassure himself more than anything. “I always was. I always will be.”

Alain cocked his head a little, watching Ayrton stare a hole in the wall. “I don’t doubt it,” he said. “I know it has been a long time. In some ways. In others… Sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday that Nico was in his little pedal car. I cannot imagine what it must be like for you.”

Ayrton nodded, chewing on his lip. “It’s… strange,” he said. “I wish I could have been there for everything.”

He’d missed so much and it wasn’t fair. If he had to come back, why was it so late? Why was it after he’d missed so much?

Alain squeezed Ayrton’s shoulder, hoping he was helping. “But you’re here now,” he said.

Ayrton nodded and forced himself to smile. This wasn’t a time to be upset. “I’m here now,” he said, trying to put the smile in his voice. “I bet the press love it, don’t they? Bruno and Nicolas racing. Senna and Prost battles again.”

Alain’s smile grew when he saw the light in his friend’s eye flicker back into life. “I will leave the boys to explain what they have been up to,” he said, knowing he would only show bias if he gave any account. “But I will give you one thing. Prost and Senna are not the only names from our era that have survived.”

The grin on his face made Ayrton’s smile fall a little.

“Our… what?”

Alain didn’t answer, the grin on his face saying enough. “I’m going to see what’s taking them so long.”

“Alain?” Ayrton called as Alain stood. Something clicked in his mind, but he didn’t like what that suggested. “Alain please don’t say Piquet…”

“I’m not saying anything,” Alain said, slipping out of the room.

 

“Can you walk any faster?” Nico asked. He was practically jumping about in excitement, having to stop every few steps for Bruno to catch up. The Brazilian shuffled along, still complaining about the early start and the cold.

“Maybe I would be more motivated if you told me what was going on,” Bruno said, following him through the hotel lobby and down towards the conference rooms.

“You’ll like it,” Nico said. “I promise.”

Bruno just rolled his eyes, shuffling a little faster. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could go back someplace warm. He was about to ask where they were going again when Alain appeared out of one of the rooms. The grin on his face was almost identical to Nico’s and that was when Bruno knew there was something wrong.

“Alain?” It had been a long time since Bruno had bored of the “please don’t call me Mr Prost” speech and succumbed to Alain’s wishes. “What’s going on?”

“Have you told him?” Alain asked Nico.

“You told me not to,” Nico said, a little offended that his father didn’t think he could keep his mouth shut for ten minutes.

“Told me what?” Bruno asked.

“Bruno,” Alain said, stepping away from the door and placing his hands on Bruno’s shoulders. “I would not lie to you, would I?”

“No,” Bruno said, slowly, beginning to worry a little now.

“Remember that,” Alain said, nodding. “Now, I know you are not going to believe this at first, but it is real. It is difficult to explain, but you must trust me. And trust your eyes, because they are telling the truth.”

“What is going on?” Bruno asked again. This was serious and his brain was coming up with exactly zero answers for him.

“Go inside,” Alain said, stepping aside and gesturing to the room he had just come out of.

Bruno didn’t move, looking between Nico and Alain. He knew he had nothing to worry about. Alain had been something like an adopted father to him during his teens, and he’d never known Nico to be cruel. He could trust them.

 

Ayrton was pretty sure he looked more shocked than Bruno when his nephew walked into the small conference room. He knew he was glad he had chosen to stay seated, already beginning to shake.

Bruno’s eyes narrowed as his brain registered what he was seeing, knowing that it couldn’t possibly be true. Ayrton gulped, no idea what to expect, or what he’d do if Bruno didn’t believe him. He didn’t hear the small gasp from his nephew over the sound of his own heartbeat. He heard the sob though.

“Uncle Ayrton?”

Bruno knew he could trust Alain and Nico, and they told him to believe it, so he was. But it wasn’t… couldn’t be…

“Bruno?” Ayrton said, uncertainly. He stood, and was almost immediately knocked back into his chair when Bruno flew into his arms.

Alain and Nico stood in the doorway, watching Ayrton hug his nephew tightly, Bruno shaking his head a little as he pressed himself further into the hug.

“I’m sorry,” Ayrton whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Bruno just shook his head again, opening his mouth to ask another question but all that came out was another sob. He was going to wake up in a moment and find himself clinging to the bedsheets but he didn’t care. Not right now.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Ayrton cooed, his fingers running through Bruno’s tangled hair. He didn’t know what else to do. “I’m here. I’m sorry for not being here before, but I’m here now.”

Bruno shuddered, trying to compose himself enough to speak but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Alain. He didn’t notice Ayrton shoot Alain a dark look for interrupting them.

“I know you have a lot of questions,” Alain said as Bruno stepped away from Ayrton. “We’ll try to answer them as best we can, but we don’t know a lot of answers.”

Ayrton gritted his teeth, trying to keep the smile on his face for Bruno’s sake. He was doing it again. Taking control…

“This… this isn’t real,” Bruno managed to spit out, shaking his head. He knew he was dreaming, like he was always dreaming, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, knowing the let-down he felt every time he woke up.

“It is,” Alain said, gently.

Bruno shook his head again, then jumped as pain shot through his arm. He glared at Nico, who’d just pinched him.

“You’re not dreaming,” Nico said, still grinning.

Bruno’s confusion turned to awe again as he realised what Nico was saying. He shook his head because this could not be true, but he couldn’t think of an alternative explanation either.

“But… how?”

“We don’t know,” Ayrton jumped in before Alain could answer. “I just woke up yesterday morning and I was here.”

“But… that’s… not possible…”

“I don’t understand it either,” Ayrton said, taking hold of Bruno’s hands and sitting them both down. “I don’t know why I’m here or why I’m back now, but it’s happened, and it means a lot that you believe me.”

Bruno nodded, trying to calm down enough to think at least one coherent thought, but it was all a mess. He looked up and met Ayrton’s eyes, but found himself looking away again immediately, a smile pushing itself onto his face. This was real. This was really happening.

“So,” he asked, looking up at Alain. “What are we going to do now?”


	8. Know the water's sweet but blood is thicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Avicci's Hey Brother.
> 
> I'm in this chapter! Ten points to whoever spots me!

By midday, it was still freezing.

Nico watched from the back of the garage as the fans wandered past, peering in on himself and the car like this was some kind of zoo. So far there had been little mention of his birthday from the team, but he wasn’t sure if this was part of his father’s plan to get him to come to this not-so-surprise birthday party.

A couple of fans from the week before lingered at the edge of the garage. Nico pretended not to notice them, trying to get back into the conversation he was having with his engineers. He was going to kill his father. Introducing him to twitter had seemed like such a good idea at the time…

“So,” Sebastien said, sitting down beside Nico. “Heard you were going to a new team.”

He was grinning and Nico assumed that was because he believed Nico’s bluff as much as his father did, rather than that he wanted a new team mate.

“I cannot believe you knew about this birthday party all along and you did not tell me about it,” Nico said, trying to move his lips as little as possible. The last thing he needed was random fans showing up at this party, not that he was _going_ , of course.

“Well, I was told not to say anything,” Sebastien said. “I do not see why this is such a bad thing.”

“I _said_ I did not want anybody making a big deal about it,” Nico hissed. It wasn’t the party that was a big deal. Not really. He didn’t _want_ one, but that was mostly because he wasn’t eight anymore and he had been looking forward to going home that evening. He didn’t want to make a big fuss and… and he didn’t want to be ignored. It sounded stupid, but he… he _wanted_ the embarrassment of having the fans sing happy birthday to him, just to prove that they actually noticed he existed. But he knew that wouldn’t happen. And he would prefer it not happen because nobody knew about his birthday rather than because nobody cared.

Not that he wanted the embarrassment itself, of course.

No, the reason he was _so_ annoyed about the party was because he had specifically asked to not have one.

But he knew Sebastien wouldn’t understand any of that, and there was no point explaining it.

“You _are_ coming, though, aren’t you?” Sebastien said.

“Of course not,” Nico said.

“You _have to come_ ,” Sebastien said. “It is _your_ birthday party. And I am pretty sure your dad will kill me if you don’t come and it is my fault.”

“It is _his_ fault I am not coming,” Nico said.

“Come on, Nico,” Sebastien moaned. “You never know. You might even enjoy it.”

Nico shook his head. He was not going and there was nothing Sebastien could say that would convince him.

 

The Mahindra garage always attracted a lot of fans during the pit walk and everybody liked to pretend they didn’t know why, but it was pretty obvious. Nick didn’t mind too much. He was a racing driver, not a performing monkey, and the more time he could spend working on the car or with the engineers and minimising his chances of bad luck in the season, the better.

Bruno stood with the fans, letting the team’s PR person take picture after picture. It was always good to see so many people, of course. Support didn’t physically give you a lot but it always meant a lot.

A man in a Lotus jacket grabbed his attention next. He managed the courtesy of a polite smile before offering the familiar yellow DVD case to be signed. The sight of it made Bruno’s stomach roll and, for a fraction of a second, he froze. It wasn’t the first time it signed something like this, not by a long shot, but Bruno couldn’t help the momentary shock he got every time.

Then a grin spread onto his face and, for once, it was genuine.

 _If only he knew_ , he thought as he signed the man’s DVD. If only he knew who was sat back at the hotel, most likely bored out of his skull by now. Bruno still couldn’t believe this had happened, but the reminder that it had made him feel a little giddy. He wished he didn’t have to keep it a secret; that he could tell Nick just how happy he was without his team mate giving him funny looks, but he understood why this couldn’t get out. As soon as it did, people like the man in the Lotus jacket would be straight over there, and he wouldn’t wish that on his uncle.

He hadn’t been able to spend as long as he would have wanted to with Ayrton in the morning. He had testing to go to and Alain insisted that they must act as if there was nothing wrong. Later, they would be able to catch up properly, and Bruno was already excitedly trying to prioritise what he needed to tell his uncle about first.

“How are you?” Bruno asked, turning to the next fan.

“Cold.”

“Same,” Bruno said, the giddy smile still on his face. Not even the British weather could ruin his good mood today.

 

Heading away from the airport had pained Nico a little. He longed to go home, to relax with his wife for the rest of the week before he had to head back to the miserable little track. But no. The driver was heading away from the airport and back to the hotel, where Alain and Sebastien would probably be waiting to try to convince him to go to this stupid party.

When he had turned eight, all Nico had wanted for his birthday was a birthday party. He’d just wanted to have the children in his class at school come to his house and play party games with them. It hadn’t been too much to ask, he’d thought. And for his dad to have actually been there for it. That wasn’t necessary, more of a bonus, but it would have been nice. But, of course, that hadn’t happened. Nico wasn’t sure if Alain thought he was making up for that by throwing the stupid party now, but he wasn’t. If anything, he was just making things worse.

Surprisingly, Nico was the first one to arrive at the hotel. He didn’t bother waiting for his father or team mate, thanking the driver before heading inside and up the stairs to his room. Maybe if he just locked the door and put some earphones in, he’d manage to sleep through the entire party.

That plan went out the window when he found Ayrton waiting outside his room.

“What are you doing here?” Nico asked.

“Got bored,” Ayrton said with a shrug.

“Dad would kill you if he found you here,” Nico pointed out, unlocking the door.

“Your father seems very happy I’m _not_ dead,” Ayrton said, following Nico into the hotel room. “But I see your point.”

“You can’t really be seen until you’ve spoken to your family,” Nico reminded him, dumping his keys on the bed side table.

“I know,” Ayrton said, sitting down and watching Nico change out of his team shirt. “Are you going to this party tonight?”

Nico rolled his eyes. How did _everybody_ know about this party?

“No,” Nico said, definitely. If his father had sent Ayrton to come and convince him to go to the party, it wasn’t going to work.

“It will be a little strange, to have a birthday party without the birthday boy,” Ayrton said. “Or do they do that differently now too?”

“No they don’t do it differently,” Nico said, pulling on his hoodie. “But I will not enjoy this party and Dad has just thrown it to spite me. So why should I go to a party that I will not enjoy?”

It had been Ayrton that had said that Nico understood him a lot more than his father did. Maybe that worked the other way around too. Maybe he could get somebody on his side.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ayrton said with a small shrug. “Now you just have to decide what you are going to do all night, whilst all your friends are at this party.”

Nico almost smiled. It was a new tactic, not exactly expected. He’d give Ayrton that much.

“Most of my friends will not be there,” Nico pointed out. “They are back home. There will probably only be the guys from the track, which I’ve spent enough time with today. I just want to go to sleep, Ayrton. Hopefully I can get a plane that leaves early tomorrow morning.”

“Well,” Ayrton said, standing. “I will leave you to that. But, knowing your father, I doubt you are going to get that.”


	9. Light a Fire They Can't Put Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Avicii's The Nights

Bruno knocked gently on the door. Alain had said something about disappearing and, even though Ayrton had tried to insist that he didn’t have to worry about that, it still made Bruno a little nervous. None of them knew what was really going on, not even Ayrton, and Bruno knew he had to be prepared for the possibility of a disappearance whilst they didn’t know.

Thankfully, Ayrton opened the door and Bruno let out a sigh of relief which made his uncle grin.

“I hope you know what you want to do now, because I have no idea,” Ayrton said.

Bruno laughed, still a little nervous, and took the seat that was offered to him whilst Ayrton sat on the edge of the bed, grinning at him. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t have been this nervous, but he was beginning to think the possibility of disappearance had just been his excuse as to why he was so shaky.

“How was testing?” Ayrton asked, trying to get a conversation started.

Bruno opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was another nervous laugh. “Good,” he said, eventually, diverting his eyes to the floor in the hope that it might let him calm down a little. “It went well, I guess.”

Testing was going surprisingly well, if he were honest, though he was still waiting every time he got in the car for the suspension to break or for something else to go wrong. So far, there had been none of that, and Bruno was almost letting himself be _genuinely_ hopeful about the next season.

“He says with such enthusiasm,” Ayrton laughed. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Bruno said, quickly, looking up. His uncle looked so happy and… _proud_ , and Bruno couldn’t ruin that by telling him the truth. He was sure Ayrton would find out at some point, if Alain hadn’t already told him, that Formula E wasn’t quite on the same level as Formula One, and he hadn’t even managed to make his mark on _this_ series, but he couldn’t cope with the disappointment. Not right now.

Not that it looked like Ayrton was going to give him a choice.

“Come on then,” he prompted. “Tell me all about it. I’m surprised your mother even let you continue racing. You know she likes to worry.”

“Well,” Bruno said, rolling his eyes a little. “She almost didn’t. I stopped for a little while, after… you know. It didn’t seem right and I knew everyone was getting upset and scared every time I got in the car. But…” Bruno trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“But you went back,” Ayrton finished.

Bruno nodded. “I had to.”

It was probably the most selfish thing Bruno had ever done, but he just couldn’t stop racing. He still remembered the look on his mother’s face when he told her that he wanted to get back onto the track. She hadn’t been surprised, just disappointed. She’s said he had too much of his uncle in him, and Bruno was pretty sure that hadn’t been meant as a good thing at the time, but he’d been proud nevertheless.

Ayrton couldn’t help but grin as Bruno smiled sheepishly at the floor. There was still that pang of guilt there, that he should have been there for him for the past twenty years, but it was getting smaller and smaller every moment he spent with his nephew. Bruno had coped. Better yet, he’d coped well, and he still seemed to be the decent human being Ayrton had left him as.

“Come on, then,” Ayrton laughed. “I would have thought you would be dying to tell me what you’ve been up to. “

Bruno gulped a little, trying to come up with a way of not having to admit how much of a failure he was. All the plans he’d come up with in the day had gone now, and all he wanted to do was talk about something other than racing.

“Well, what do you want to know?” Bruno asked, failing to find some way of getting out of it.

Ayrton laughed. “Everything,” he said. “What team do you drive for? How did you do in the lower series? What’s it like racing against Nicolas? Whatever else you can think of. What’s wrong?”

Bruno tried to smile but he just couldn’t manage it. There really wasn’t a way out of this and he was going to have to admit what had happened. His eyes crawled the floor again, trying to find a way of explaining that wouldn’t be so harsh. Ayrton’s smile fell as Bruno’s frown deepened and he pushed himself off of the bed, crouching in front of Bruno and forcing his nephew’s eyes onto his own.

“Bruno, what is wrong?” Ayrton asked again, beginning to get a little worried now.

“I’m sorry,” Bruno whispered, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the disappointment in his uncle’s face. “I don’t drive in Formula _One_. I drive in Formula _E_. And it’s not the same. Not at all. I _was_ in Formula One, but I wasn’t good enough. And I’m sorry.”

His eyes still closed, Bruno felt Ayrton stand, then he was being pulled up too and, before he could ask what was going on, he was being pulled into a hug.

“You never have to be sorry, ok?” Ayrton whispered. He didn’t know how he’d managed to make Bruno feel the way he did, but it was _him_ who needed to be sorry for that, not the other way around. “It does not matter if you are not “good enough” for Formula One. You can be in Formula One or Formula E or Formula Z or whatever else they have these days. I do not care. You are you, and I am proud of you. I will always be proud of you.”

“I wasn’t even good enough to get into Formula One,” Bruno mumbled. “The only reason I got there was because of you.”

“No,” Ayrton said, sternly. He stepped away from Bruno, holding onto his shoulders. “That is not true and I do not believe it.”

“It is.”

“Is not,” Ayrton insisted. “You are good enough for whatever you need to be. And if you’re not supposed to be in F1 it is not because you are not good enough. It is because you are not supposed to be there. God has other plans for you. Why waste your time in Formula One when you have other things to enjoy?”

“But-.”

“No buts,” Ayrton said. “As long as you are doing something you love, I am happy for you. And I will always be proud of you.”

He smiled hopefully, stepping away from Bruno and sitting back down. Bruno was silent for a moment, tears still welling in his eyes. He nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand before sitting down again.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Ayrton said. “So… tell me about this E thing then?”

 

Nico hadn’t been asleep when someone knocked on his door, but he’d been trying. Hoping it was just Sebastien, and he would give up and go away in a few moments, Nico didn’t move from the bed, screwing his eyes shut tighter as if that might make him deaf. Whoever was at the door didn’t give up.

“I know you’re awake, Nico.”

For a couple of seconds, Nico considered ignoring him until he went away. Maybe he’d stand there all night, knocking on the door, but Nico was not getting up and he was not going to this stupid birthday party. His patience didn’t last much longer than the couple of seconds though and, before he knew it, he was marching across the room and opening the door.

“I am not going.”

“I wasn’t going to try and make you,” Alain said, trying his best to look sincere. “Can I come in?”

“I’m trying to sleep,” Nico said.

“Can I not even speak to my own son on his birthday?” Alain asked.

“Not when I was eight, apparently,” Nico muttered under his breath, only half hoping his father wouldn’t hear him.

“Please can we talk?” Alain asked.

Nico looked at his father suspiciously. He was pretty sure this was some kind of trick to get him to go to the party. Alain didn’t exactly look dressed up to go to a party, but his father never did understand social norms (and wondered why Nico would barely speak to him in public sometimes). But Nico couldn’t think of a way out of this that wouldn’t end up with Alain hammering on his door as soon as he closed it, so he stood aside and let him into the hotel room, switching on the light as he did so.

“You really were trying to sleep?” Alain noticed, a little surprised.

“Of course,” Nico said. “It has been a long day. I’m tired.”

It wasn’t really a lie. Between the early start and the day testing, he was exhausted. Just another reason for him not to go out partying.

“Of course,” Alain said, nodding, deciding to sit in the chair rather than the unmade bed.

“Is there something you actually wanted to talk about?” Nico asked, doing his best not to snap. “Because I would still like to go to sleep.”

Alain sighed and nodded, gesturing for Nico to sit down too. Nico bit his lip to stop himself from groaning and sat down heavily on the bed, folding his arms.

“What is it?”

“Happy birthday,” Alain began, but he didn’t give Nico enough time for a sarcastic comment before he continued. “I know I probably have not said it enough, but I am very proud of you Nico. I was so happy when you told me you wanted to give racing a try-.”

“Are you drunk?” Nico asked, suddenly. His father didn’t do all this soppy rubbish, at least when there were not cameras around and he was not being prompted.

“No,” Alain said, a little too quickly.

“You are,” Nico said. “Please just go.”

“I’m not drunk, Nico,” Alain tried to insist, standing as Nico did. “I’ve had one or two, but I mean every word. I am proud of you. Happy that you are my son.”

“Did Sebastien put you up to this?” Nico asked. Drunk or not, he doubted his father would have come up with all of this by himself. It sounded like the sort of thing Sebastien would suggest.

“Nico, I mean it,” Alain said again.

“If I agree to go to this stupid party for half an hour, will you leave me be?” Nico asked. He didn’t care anymore. All he really wanted was to go to sleep, and if that meant going to this party, he’d show his face.

“This isn’t about the party,” Alain said, but Nico didn’t believe him.

“Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I will be there.”


	10. I just wanna let it go for the night that would be the best therapy for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from David Guetta's memories

Nick hadn’t really been planning to come to the no longer surprise birthday party. He and Nico were on speaking terms, and everything seemed to be ok, but Nick still hadn’t really forgiven him for the move in Beijing the year before. But then Alain had pointed out the free alcohol and, eventually, Nick had decided it would probably be better to show his face and continue to act as if there was nothing wrong.

Since he’d arrived, he’d been stood in the corner with Sebastien and Nelson, both of whom seemed to have drunk a lot more than he had.

“Has Nico seemed a little weird to you recently?” he asked.

“Nico always seems a little weird to me,” Sebastien said, getting a small snicker from Nelson.

Nick rolled his eyes. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t get involved in whatever was going on, and he wasn’t going to, but he wanted somebody else to agree with him that something was going on, to convince himself he wasn’t going mad.

“Weirder than normal then?” he clarified.

Sebastien shrugged. "Maybe a little. I think he was just annoyed about the party, though.”

“What about when he didn’t join you at breakfast yesterday,” Nick said. He knew he was doing more digging than he wanted to now, but that didn’t mean that he was getting involved. Not at all. “That was before he even knew about the party.”

“He said he bumped into one of his dad’s old friends,” Sebastien said with a shrug. He went to take another swig from the bottle of beer he was holding and found it empty. Disappointed, Sebastien led the three of them back to the bar. “I didn’t see him at breakfast this morning either.”

“No, he came down when I was eating but he didn’t stop,” Nick said. “He was looking for Bruno.”

“So why don’t you ask him what’s going on?” Nelson asked, beginning to get bored of the conversation. The entire party would be boring if it weren’t for the alcohol.

“Yeah, where is Bruno anyway?” Sebastien asked, looking around. The bar wasn’t exactly well lit, and he couldn’t make out many of the faces of the people who had joined the party, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Bruno all evening. “I thought he said he was coming.”

Nick shrugged. “I will tell you what I told Nico this morning, I do not have a tracking device on him.”

“Maybe he bumped into Alain’s old friend too,” Nelson suggested sarcastically.

“He’s probably trying to get Nico to come to the party,” Sebastien said.

“I don’t see why,” Nelson said. “He doesn’t want to be here. I don’t see why they don’t just leave him be.”

“Because that would be no fun,” Nick said. “They wouldn’t even have to be going to all this trouble if _someone_ hadn’t let slip about the party.”

“I said I was sorry,” Sebastien said, finally managing to get one of the bar staff’s attention and getting drinks for the three of them. Nelson noticed how happy he was to get the rounds in when it wasn’t him paying.

A cheer from some of the people on the other side of the bar drew there attention and the three drivers spun around to find Nico and Alain had arrived.

He just had to grin and bear it. Nico told himself over and over again that it would only be for half an hour or so, or even sooner if he managed to lose his father before then. Maybe Sebastien had been right and, once Nico loosened up a little, he might actually enjoy himself. He doubted it, too annoyed at Alain to think about “loosening up”, but there was a possibility.

“There’s the birthday boy!” Sebastien called, waving for Nico to come over. Nico was glad of the poor lighting, knowing his cheeks were bright crimson and this was embarrassing enough without his team mate _knowing_ he was embarrassed. “I knew he would show up.”

“You guys are drunk too?” Nico asked. He didn’t know why he was surprised.

“There’s free alcohol,” Nelson answered.

Someone handed Nico a bottle and, in the poor light, he couldn’t read the label, but drank from it anyway. Alain had disappeared but Nico knew he couldn’t have gone far this quickly and, as soon as he tried to slip towards the door, he’d be back.

An awkward silence settled between the four of them, Nick and Sebastien both waiting for the other to bring up Nico’s oddness. Nico looked around the place, trying to look at least mildly interesting in what was going on, and where his father had disappeared to.

“Quite quick out there today,” Nick commented, trying to break the awkwardness.

“Are we really going to talk about this now?” Nelson complained.

“Just because you’re in the middle of nowhere,” Sebastien said, grinning.

“Are we really going to talk about this now?” Nelson said again.

“Let’s not get into an argument, guys,” Nico said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Nick agreed, taking another swig from the bottle he was holding. “Why don’t we talk about this friend of Alain’s?”

“Which friend of Alain’s?” Nico asked with a groan. What if the party wasn’t the worst part? What if his dad had something else planned? Something even more embarrassing?

“The friend that you keep ditching Sebastien for?” Nick said. Did this count as interfering? No, of course not. Alain’s friend wouldn’t have anything to do with the reason why Nico was acting weird – they were all too old for that.

“Oh,” Nico said, realising what his friends were talking about. “Sorry about that.”

“I know when I am not wanted,” Sebastien said, pretending to be offended. “First you ditch me for some old man, then you say you’re moving teams.”

“You’re moving teams?” Nelson asked, suddenly interested in the conversation again.

“”Look who doesn’t want to talk about work,” Nick said, grinning as he drank from his bottle.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nico admitted. “Why are we interrogating me today? Shouldn’t I be having a good time?”

“Oh, alright then,” Sebastien said, changing the subject to something he hoped nobody was going to moan about.

 

“…Yeah, it’s…” Bruno yawned. It was getting late and his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, but he refused to admit he was tired. He could hear Ayrton chucking at him from beside him but his uncle didn’t ask if he was tired this time. “It’s pretty good.”

Bruno was beginning to lose his voice a little, he’d spoken for so long, but there was so much that had happened that he wanted to share. Now he wasn’t scared Ayrton was going to be disappointed in him, he found he couldn’t wait to share everything he’d done since he started racing again. He was pretty sure he still had a lot more to say, but everything was getting muddled up in his head now.

“You sound like you have been enjoying yourself,” Ayrton said.

“There have been… there have been some good times,” Bruno said, trying to stifle a yawn that was just not going away.

“You look exhausted,” Ayrton said, gently, laughing when Bruno shook his head. When he tried to deny it, he just ended up yawning again. “Go to bed.”

“I’m fine,” Bruno tried to insist. He could barely keep his eyes open but he didn’t care. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t go to bed.

“I will still be here in the morning,” Ayrton laughed.

“But you won’t though,” Bruno said, quietly. He saw the laughter fall from Ayrton’s face and dropped his eyes back to the floor. He shook his head, refusing to let himself go to sleep, but it didn’t matter now. He’d changed the atmosphere and he couldn’t get that back.

“Of course I will be,” Ayrton said, quietly. “Bruno, what’s the matter?”

“You won’t be,” Bruno mumbled. “I’ll go to sleep and wake up and it’ll be this morning and you’ll be gone.”

He closed his eyes and, on second thought, that probably wasn’t a good idea because he didn’t think he was going to be able to open them again. He didn’t know why he was doing this, because acting like this was just prolonging the inevitable, but he just wanted more time.

“This is real, Bruno,” Ayrton said, shifting to let his nephew lean against him. Bruno shook his head, his eyes still closed, but eventually rested his head against Ayrton’s shoulder. “I am not going anywhere. I promise.”

“It is always the same,” Bruno mumbled. He didn’t want the dream to end in an argument.

“This is not like those times,” Ayrton said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty for what had happened, but he had put Bruno though all of this, and the rest of his family. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Bruno, I promise you this is not like any of those times. Because this is real. I am here. And I will be here when you wake up.”

Bruno didn’t reply and it only took Ayrton a couple of moments of listening to the gentle breathing to know he’d fallen asleep. As carefully as possible, Ayrton shifted him so he was lying on the bed before settling back in the chair. He’d be here when Bruno woke up. He didn’t know much about this disappearing thing Alain was scared of, but he was going to make sure it did not happen. He was going to keep his promise.

 

Nico had drunk a little more than he had expected. He knew that because he was pretty sure he was drunk and he knew _that_ because there were lips against his and he wasn’t pushing the owner away. The girl was blonde, which wasn’t exactly his type but he wasn’t in much of a mood to be fussy. She looked pretty enough and when she spoke her voice was like caramel. Nico couldn’t quite remember what she’d been saying, but it had been good. It must have been good. That was why he was letting her kiss him even though he knew everybody could see.

“Fuck, _Nico_!”

Somebody pulled Nico away from the girl and then he was being shoved onto a bar stool. Nick leaned close to yell into Nico’s ear, the music too loud to be heard properly now.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” Nico replied, his words slurring a little. He had to focus a little too much on speaking English and it made his head hurt. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re fucked,” Nelson commented from behind Nick, laughing, but Nico couldn’t hear him. “Better not let Delphine find out about that.”

“We’re going to have to get him back to the hotel,” Nick said. He hadn’t realised Nico had been drinking _that_ much.

Nico swayed a little and almost fell off of the stool, Sebastien having to catch him.

“Where is Alain?” he asked. He hadn’t seen him since Nico had arrived. “Someone should tell him we are going.”

Sebastien looked between Nelson and Nick, trying to stop Nico from leaving them. All three of them ignored the Frenchman’s complaints about wanting to have fun.

“I will go,” Nelson said as if it was the most annoying thing he had ever agreed to do. He didn’t see why it had to be his responsibility, but it would probably beat trying to get Nico back to the hotel. Before anybody could argue, he slipped away.

“I don’t need to go anywhere,” Nico insisted. “I’m fine.”

To prove just how fine he was, Nico pushed himself off of the stool and waved Sebastien away. He could walk in a straight line easily- woah!

“Come on,” Sebastien said, catching his team mate. “I think you have had enough fun.”


	11. I'm coming 'round and now my vision is so clear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Calvin Harris' Flashback

It was the sound of rain splattering against the window that let Bruno know he was awake. He screwed his eyes shut and curled up a little, waiting for his phone alarm to go to tell him he needed to get up. There was testing to be done and, absolutely freezing or not, he needed to get up and do it.

His dream had been so nice and he wanted to hold onto the memory of it a little longer. Waking up after every dream was the same and Bruno didn’t know why he tried to hold on when he knew he was going to have to face reality soon enough, but he needed to. He didn’t have a choice.

A snore from across the room made him jump and Bruno’s eyes flew open. The hotel room wasn’t his: it was far too tidy to be his. Panicking a little, he sat up, trying to find his phone and figure out what had happened last night.

It wasn’t a dream.

A smile crept onto Bruno’s face when he spotted his uncle sat in the chair at the end of the bed, still asleep and in a position that Bruno knew would make his neck ache when he woke up.

It wasn’t a dream and this was really happening.

There was a message from his mother on his phone when he found it. He’d called her the night before, with Ayrton sat beside him and biting his lip to stop himself shouting into the phone in excitement, to tell her she needed to get to England immediately. He hadn’t been able to explain, not wanting to tell her over the phone what had happened, but she had eventually agreed to come and bring Leonardo and Bianca. The message was just to let him know they had a flight and would arrive that evening.

He couldn’t wait for his family to arrive. They’d be so happy. He knew it would be hard to believe – that was why he hadn’t wanted to tell them over the phone – but there was no way they would be any less delighted than he was.

Bruno’s attention was taken from his phone by his uncle. Ayrton was still sound asleep in the awkward position the chair allowed him, but looked like he was having a dream. Or a nightmare. Bruno froze, not sure what this meant or if he should wake him up. Maybe it would be best to get Alain? Alain always knew what to do.

Just as Bruno was about to try to creep out of the bed, Ayrton woke, the panic from the dream still in his eyes. Bruno rushed over, trying to calm Ayrton down without panicking himself.

“Are you alright?”

Ayrton blinked at the man in front of him, trying to remember what was going on, before the memories of the past two days flooded back. He took a deep breath and nodded, gently pushing Bruno away to try to stop him fussing. It was just a dream.

“I’m fine,” he said, giving Bruno a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure?” Bruno asked, edging towards the door. “I could get Alain, if you like.”

“No,” Ayrton said, a little too quickly. He took another deep breath, ignoring the confused look Bruno was giving him. “I really am fine. It’s just a dream.”

“A nightmare?” Bruno asked.

Ayrton nodded and sat up properly, rubbing his neck where it had gone stiff. Maybe sleeping in the chair hadn’t been one of his greatest ideas.

“What was it about?” Bruno asked, curiously. He was used to strange and weird dreams. He rarely had nightmares anymore, as he’d become so used to them that they didn’t frighten him anymore.

Ayrton shook his head. He didn’t really want to discuss the dream with anybody, not whilst he didn’t understand it himself. He knew it was a message, the reason he was here, but he didn’t understand what he was supposed to do with it. There were no more answers than when he’d tried to come up with some the morning before. It felt like he’d been given half the pieces of a puzzle but not told what the puzzle was.

But, then, maybe Bruno could help with that. It was worth a try. Anything was worth a try now.

“I am in a car,” Ayrton said, quietly. He remembered the dream much more vividly than he had ever remembered any dream, but he guesses that was because it was a message. “A race car. But it is different from anything I have ever driven before…”

He explained the details of the car and the race and the lack of control. He looked at the floor as he did so, imagining the events unfold on the beige carpet, and didn’t notice Bruno’s curiosity turn to awe as he realised what the dream was about.

“Jules,” he said quietly once Ayrton had stopped talking.

“What?”

“It was…” Bruno shook his head, because _how_ could… It was not possible for Ayrton to have dreamt about Jules’ accident, was it? Bruno scolded himself at the thought. None of this was possible, which meant anything was. “Suzuka.”

Ayrton thought for a moment, replaying the track inside his mind. “It… it might have been.”

“No, it _was_ ,” Bruno said. “There was a crash, at the race in Suzuka last year. It was _that_ crash.”

Ayrton frowned, trying to work out what this meant. If the crash had already happened, there was no way he could go and stop it. But then what _was_ he supposed to do.

“This driver…?”

Bruno nodded. The day he’d heard the news was still fresh in his memory and his heart still jerked the same way it had when he heard that morning.

“Jules,” Bruno said. “He… he died last month.”

He knew there were some people who couldn’t even talk about Jules yet and some people found it strange that he was so easily able to talk about the dreams he had. But that was different. They were just dreams…

“The dream,” Bruno said, more to himself than to Ayrton, who was still trying to figure out what he was supposed to understand from the message he’d been given.

“What about it?” Ayrton asked.

“No, _I_ had a dream,” Bruno said. It had to be related, didn’t it? It was too big a coincidence for it to not be related to everything that was going on here. With practiced eased, Bruno retold his own dream to his uncle, leaving out some of the more wilder details that had worked their way into later renditions.

“Do you always have such weird dreams?” Ayrton asked.

Bruno shrugged. “I have a lot of strange dreams but this one explains this, doesn’t it?”

He couldn’t believe he’d never connected the two things together the day before when it was so _obvious_ now. It was the reason Ayrton was back, some kind of exchange. _Why_ the exchange had taken place was another matter altogether and Bruno had no answer for that, but he was sure that it _had_.

“You… think we swapped places?” Ayrton asked. He didn’t like that theory. It was as if he was taking somebody else’s place and it just felt wrong.

Bruno nodded. “I’m going to get Alain.” He stood, glancing at the state of himself in the mirror before heading to the door. He didn’t see when Ayrton rolled his eyes, because apparently _everybody_ thought Alain always knew what to do in this time. “I’ll be right back,” Bruno said, turning back to Ayrton. He was grinning again and he couldn’t stop himself. If he were right, and this was the explanation as to _how_ Ayrton was here, he would have to thank Jules the next time he spoke to him.


	12. No way to hold my head that didn't hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Johnny Cash's Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Alain felt he’d been hit by a truck. There was a reason he didn’t go out drinking too much and he was pretty sure this was it. He didn’t actually remember drinking that much. It had just been a few drinks at the bar for Nico’s birthday. Nothing _excessive_.

Apparently his body didn’t agree.

 _Just the aches and pains of an old man_ , he thought to himself as he sat up, happy to find he’d made it back to his own room the night before. He shook his head from side to side, trying to work out if the dizziness was from sitting up or from being hung over, but the spinning stopped after a couple of moments. He was fine. He just ached.

As he fumbled around to try and find his watch, and the time, there was another knock on the door and Alain realised it was probably that which had woken him. It was early, he found when he realised his watch was still on his wrist. Too early for visitors, but Alain put on a dressing gown anyway and went to answer the door. If this was Nico trying to get some kind of revenge…

“Bruno?”

Alain had never known the Brazilian to be out of bed this early in the morning. Bruno stood shivering in the hallway. He’d considered slipping away to his room to get a jumper before seeing Alain, but he’d figured it could wait.

“We think we figured it out,” he said.

“Figured what out?” Alain asked, still only half awake.

“How Uncle Ayrton got here,” Bruno said, stepping back to lead Alain back to Ayrton’s room.

Alain mentally groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It was too early for this right now.

“Can you come and get me in a couple of hours?” he asked.

Bruno’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“It was… was not an early night last night,” Alain said, his eyes still shut. “It is too early for this.”

“You dragged me out of bed before six in the morning yesterday,” Bruno laughed. “It is not that early today.”

“Yes, but…” Alain groaned quietly. “Please.”

“Are you…” Bruno’s grin widened. “Are you hung over?”

“No,” Alain said, definitely. And he wasn’t hung over, he was sure. He just ached. And he was tired.

“Sure,” Bruno said, but the grin on his face said he didn’t believe him. Alain was too tired to argue with him. “So, it was a good night last night?”

“Bruno, please just let me go back to sleep,” Alain said. He would happily sit with him over lunch – maybe a late lunch – and talk about whatever it was Bruno wanted to talk about. God knew he got more of a conversation out of Bruno than he did his own son. But he couldn’t think a coherent thought this morning, besides how much he ached.

“Sure,” Bruno said. “My mum and the rest of the family are arriving this evening. Would you like me to get you before they come?”

He’d thought Alain, being as much of a part of all this as he was, would want to be there for that. And he was pretty sure his mother would be more likely to believe this was true if Alain were there. She trusted him.

“I will be alright before this evening,” Alain said, before what Bruno had said hit him. “Your family is coming?”

“Of course,” Bruno said, as if it were obvious. “I phoned mum last night.”

“Does she _know_?” Alain asked. This was going to be a disaster. He’d wanted to sit down with Viviane and explain to her so she didn’t freak out. He’d agreed with Ayrton the first night that they would wait to tell the rest of his family until after they could get hold of some kind of identity from these strange people Nico claimed to know. Apparently, Ayrton had forgotten about that. There was a surprise…

“No,” Bruno said. “I didn’t want to tell her over the phone. I think she’d think I had gone mad. I mean, maybe I have.”

“Alright, ok,” Alain said, closing his eyes. He could still save this. Somehow.

“Is everything alright?” Bruno asked. He hadn’t thought this would be that stressful for Alain but, on second thought, that was a rather stupid assumption. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Uncle Ayrton said he could handle it but I thought you might like to be there.”

“Ayrton said…” Alain muttered. “And I guess he was the one that told you to phone your mother?”

“Well, yeah,” Bruno admitted. “He wanted to see her. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Alain said, shaking his head. He couldn’t blame Bruno for this. “You haven’t done anything. Give me five minutes to get dressed and I will come to speak to your uncle. And put a jumper on. You look freezing.”

 

_What the fuck…_

Nico woke to find himself hanging out of a bed that was not his own in a hotel room he vaguely recognised. His attempts to right himself in the bed ended with him face planting the floor and he groaned again.

_What the fuck?_

The party. Of course.

Nico crawled into an upright position, leaning against the bed and trying to stop his head from spinning quite so much. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to the party. Or taken quite so many drinks that had been offered to him. The night before was a bit of a blur, but he remembered the drinks. Drink after drink and he was pretty sure Nick, Sebastien, and Nelson had been _trying_ to get him completely wasted. Then there had been the girl and…

“Fuck.”

Nico jumped up, scared who he would find he’d shared a bed with. If it was some random girl he was going to be in so much trouble…

Sebastien snored quietly on the other side of the bed, taking as much of the duvet as he could. Nico sighed in relief. He didn’t really care _why_ he’d ended up in his team mate’s hotel room, but it was probably for the best.

Nico stood to try and find his phone and head back to his own room before he woke Sebastien up, but the sudden movement made his head throb and his stomach lurch…

Sebastien woke to the sound of his team mate throwing up in the bathroom.

Nico glared at a smirking Sebastien, but the spit on his chin and the fact he was kneeling in front of a toilet took away any effect the glare might have had on him.

“Why aren’t you hung over?” Nico asked.

Sebastien shrugged. “I know when to say no,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the bathroom wall as he watched Nico heave again. “Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright?” Nico mumbled. Nothing else came out of his mouth and, sitting with his chin against the toilet seat, he started to feel a little better. A little. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I guess you were right,” Sebastien said, trying not to laugh. Maybe he should have been a little more sympathetic to his team mate, seeing as Nico hadn’t even wanted to be there, but he was struggling. “What time’s your flight?”

“Flight?” Nico asked, looking up at Sebastien. “What flight?”

“I thought you were still going home?” Sebastien said. That was the last he had heard, but the last he had heard Nico hadn’t been going to the party.

“Fuck,” Nico muttered again. He didn’t even know when the flight was. He needed to go to speak to his father, but he also never wanted to speak to him again. That wasn’t really practical, but he could at least give him the silent treatment until the test session the next week.

“I’ll go and get Alain,” Sebastien said, laughing. Maybe this was why Nico hadn’t wanted a birthday party…

“No,” Nico said, standing. He could deal with this himself. If he were lucky, he could be on a flight back home before Alain even knew he’d left the hotel…


	13. The storm keeps on twisting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Sarah McLachlan's Angel.  
> Talk of Jules in this chapter, just so you know.

It just could not be true. Just thinking about the implications of Bruno’s reasoning made Ayrton feel a little sick. What did that make him? A life thief? A murderer? No, if he was back from the dead, it had to be for a reason. A purpose. He was not going to believe this, no matter how much sense it made.

Any moment now, Bruno was going to be back with Alain and Ayrton wasn’t sure he was ready. The explanation made as much sense as any of this did, and it was the only one they had. Alain would definitely believe it. Ayrton wasn’t ready for him to barge in, acting as if his word was law, forcing him to go along with something that just could not be true.

“I just need to know what I’m supposed to do,” Ayrton whispered, his eyes closed again and his forehead resting against his clasped hands. “I need to know that there _is_ something for me to do. I know I’m back for a reason – I have to be back for a reason – but I… I cannot think of anything now, not if this reason is true. Not if I’m only here because this other man isn’t.”

It wasn’t _helping_. There was a time when Ayrton would find comfort and calmness from the quiet words alone. Saying them aloud and knowing someone heard them helped. Now, he wasn’t even sure there was someone out there to hear him. No, there _was_ someone. There had to be.

“Please, I just-.”

Ayrton jumped up at the knock at the door.

“Uncle Ayrton? It’s just me and Alain.”

Ayrton took a deep breath before standing and wiped his eyes again. He knew he could just ignore them, if he wanted. He didn’t have to face this if he didn’t want to. But that wasn’t going to help. It would be ok, Ayrton told himself as he opened the door. Who knew? Maybe Alain might be a little sympathetic.

“I bought clothes too,” Bruno said, as he led Alain into the room. He placed the pile of clothes down on the bed, still grinning. “I just thought you might like some. I didn’t know if you had anything or…”

“No,” Ayrton said, forcing himself to smile. “It was a good idea. Thank you.”

Bruno’s grin somehow grew, as if Ayrton’s approval was the most important thing in the world. Alain did not look quite so happy. He didn’t even look awake.

“Come on then,” Alain said, falling into the chair as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. “The reason?”

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Bruno asked, looking up at his uncle.

“I think you understand it better than I do,” Ayrton said. He hoped he didn’t understand it fully. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.

“Right,” Bruno said, turning to Alain. “Did I tell you about my dream?” He’d told so many people about his dream it was hard to keep track of who he’d told, and what he’d told them, as some versions varied (only slightly).

“Which one?” Alain asked, trying to figure out what any of the bizarre stories might have to do with this.

“The last one?” Bruno asked. “The one about the chess game with the grim reaper?”

“Oh, I think Sebastien told me about it,” Alain said. It was too early for this. His head was beginning to ache now and he just wished Bruno would tell him so he could get on with this.

Bruno nodded and Alain noticed the grin fell from his face. “I swapped a pawn for a knight I had lost. Only the knight was Uncle Ayrton. And the pawn was Jules.” His voice grew quieter with each word. Of course he was happy he had his uncle back. If he were honest with himself, he would have done anything to make this happen. But he knew how hard losing Jules had been on pretty much everyone he knew. If there were any other way for Ayrton to have been brought back, Bruno would have preferred it.

“And you think this is why this has happened?” Alain asked.

Bruno nodded again. “Well…” He glanced up at his uncle, but it was clear Ayrton wasn’t going to say anything. “Uncle Ayrton dreamt of Jules’ crash.”

Ayrton winced at the mention of his dream. He hadn’t really wanted Alain to know about his dream, or anybody else for that matter.

“You dreamt about a crash?” Alain asked. “ _Jules’_ crash?”

Ayrton was shaking a little, but he refused to show it. “I dreamt of _a_ crash.”

“It was Jules,” Bruno insisted. He knew it was. What his uncle had described was exactly like that wet day at Suzuka.

“Did you… _see_ him?” Alain asked. “Before you came back?”

He’d heard a lot of people say it. It had been a nice image and Alain had always understood some people must find it comforting to imagine someone looking after Jules. He’d gone along with it when someone mentioned to it to him, but he’d never thought he’d really believed it. Until now, when it seemed impossible for it to be true.

Ayrton shook his head. “I told you before, there is nothing between waking up and Imola.”

“Right,” Alain said, quietly. He found himself wandering over the window, hiding his face from Bruno and Ayrton. He knew it didn’t really matter. He hadn’t even thought the story true. Or he’d thought he hadn’t thought it was true. Maybe he’d hoped… No. It didn’t matter. “So… you think this is what brought you here?”

“It’s the only explanation we have, right?” Bruno said.

“I guess it is,” Alain admitted.

“There might be another,” Ayrton said, quickly. He was not just going to roll over and accept the fact that he was some kind of… life thief. There would be another explanation and maybe it wasn’t obvious right now but he was sure it would be soon. He just had to be patient and trusting.

Bruno frowned. “But it makes sense? You don’t think it’s right?”

“Maybe something else will come in a couple of days that also makes sense,” Ayrton said, anger beginning to show in his voice. He sat down in the chair Alain had vacated, glaring at the floor.

Alain sighed. “Bruno, could you go and see if Nico is awake please?”

“Why?”

“Because Alain wants to moan at me without ruining the “Saint Alain” image,” Ayrton snapped.

Alain rolled his eyes. “Please, Bruno.”

Bruno looked between Alain and his uncle, not really understanding what was going on.

“Alright,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

He offered Ayrton a small smile but his uncle still had his gaze fixed on the floor. Alain patted him on the back as he left before taking a seat on the bed.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, cocking his head a little to try and get a glimpse of Ayrton’s face, but the Brazilian turned away from him. “Ayrton?”

“That is a stupid question,” Ayrton muttered.

Alain huffed a laugh and sat up. “I guess it is,” he mused. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Ayrton spat. “I am dead. I should not be here and you are trying to make out like the only reason I am here is because I took somebody else’s life.”

Alain rolled his eyes again. Why did he always have to be so over dramatic?

“It’s not like that, Ayrton,” he said, gently.

“Then what _is_ it like?” Ayrton snapped, looking up. There were tears in his eyes and he bit his lip to stop them falling, but he didn’t think it was going to work. “I should not be here.”

Alain watched him carefully as Ayrton looked away again. He didn’t really know what to say, comforting Ayrton not really being something he’d been used to.

“No, you shouldn’t,” he said quietly. “But I am quite glad you are though. And Bruno is definitely glad. And your family will be too, when they come.”

Ayrton didn’t reply. There was no point. Alain clearly didn’t understand the problem and maybe Ayrton wasn’t explaining it very well but he doubted Alain would care if he did.

“Didn’t you have some moaning to do,” he muttered.

Alain rolled his eyes. It didn’t look like he was helping at all, but Ayrton wasn’t letting him help either. He’d just leave the Brazilian to his self-pity or whatever this was. He’d get over it.

“You phoned Viviane,” Alain said.

“Yes,” Ayrton said, looking up. He knew where he was with Alain when he was moaning and trying to undermine him. He was used to that and knew how to react to it. He was almost glad to hear the unimpressed tone. “She’s my sister.”

“I thought we agreed we’d wait,” Alain said.

“I have waited,” Ayrton pointed out. He’d been alive for two days. He couldn’t wait much longer. How long did Alain want him to go on hiding for?

“I thought we were going to wait until you had identification,” Alain said.

“And when is that going to be?” Ayrton asked. “Because I cannot leave here until I have spoken to my family and they have agreed to go along with this ridiculous plan of yours.”

He hated this. He’d spent the entire day before staring at the same four walls, slowly going insane, coming up with more and more questions that didn’t have any answers and he didn’t want another moment of it, let alone however long Alain wanted him to wait.

“Fine,” Alain said with a sigh. There was no getting through to him. There never had been. “Bruno’s asked me to be there.”

“This does not surprise me,” Ayrton muttered. Seeing how Bruno had turned to Alain the morning before had frustrated Ayrton almost as much as being trapped in the hotel room did. He guessed that was what happened when you were there for someone for twenty years.

“If you do not want me there I do not have to be,” Alain said. “But I think it would be a good idea if I was. I get on well with Viviane”

“You get on well with everybody,” Ayrton muttered.

“Not quite everybody,” Alain said, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Nico the day before. He couldn’t understand what he’d done to offend his eldest son. He never got the kind of hostility from his younger son or daughter. He’d understand it more if it were the other way round, with Nico probably getting _a little_ more attention than his siblings. But, no. Nico hated him, and Alain didn’t think he was ever going to understand why.

“You can come,” Ayrton said. As much as he hated it, Alain was probably right. If Viviane and everybody else didn’t believe him, it would be important for Alain to be there to help convince them. “But don’t… take over.”

“When do I ever take over?” Alain asked, hoping to get a small smile from Ayrton, but the look he got back was as dark and unimpressed.

“How was the birthday party?”


	14. So here it comes the sound of the drums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Rogue Traders' Voodoo Child...

Sebastien had still been laughing at him when Nico left his team mate’s hotel room. He still felt as if he had been thrown around in a giant blender or something, but he was able to stumble down the corridor to his own room, trying to figure out if he should go back to sleep or find out when he could get out of this country. He didn’t feel like he was going to be doing any flying any time soon, but spending any more time here than he needed to was extra time for his father to harass him in.

Nico had just about decided he was going to get on the next flight no matter what the consequences when he managed to get his hotel room door open and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. He was never doing this ever again.

Just as Nico closed his eyes, there was a knock on the still slightly open hotel room door. He groaned as the thin sliver of light got wider and wider.

“Nico?” Bruno asked, poking his head around the door. A grin broke onto his face when he spotting his friend sprawled on the bed with his head buried in bed clothes. “Good night?”

Nico groaned again. “Piss off.”

The door closed, plunging the room back into darkness again and Nico thought for a moment that Bruno might have actually left him alone. Then there was a click and the light burst on, and Nico buried his head further into the bed clothes, a head ache beginning to throb just above his eyes.

Bruno shook his head, still grinning. “You went to the party then?”

“ _Yes_ , I went to the party,” Nico snapped. He wouldn’t look up, knowing the light would just make his head hurt more if he did, but felt the bed dip as Bruno sat down.

“How are you feeling?” Bruno asked, and Nico could hear he was trying not to laugh.

“How does it _look_ like I am feeling?” Nico snapped.

Bruno snorted back laughter.

“Is this why you did not want to go, Nico?” Bruno cooed. When Nico felt his friend try to smooth down the hair on the back of his head, he swatted the Brazilian away.

“Fuck off,” Nico mumbled again.

“I can’t,” Bruno said, but he did take his hand away. “Your dad wants you.”

“He can fuck off too,” Nico said. He may not be on the next flight out of here, but he hadn’t changed his mind about not wanting to speak to him. It was _his_ fault he was in this state and he expected him to be able to go and see him at this time in the morning?

What time was it…?

“I think it’s alright,” Bruno said. “I think he only sent me here because he wanted to talk to Uncle Ayrton without me there.”

It annoyed him a little. He wasn’t a _child_ anymore – he was only a couple of years younger than his uncle was, wasn’t he? If Alain wanted to talk privately, he could have just _said,_ instead of sending him off to get abuse from Nico.

“Uncle Ayrton said your dad just wants to moan at him,” Bruno mused, more to himself than to Nico. He wasn’t even sure Nico was still awake.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Nico mumbled, making Bruno jump a little. He wasn’t expecting an answer.

“Huh?”

Nico sat up, wincing a little.

“Well, Dad was always moaning about him before,” Nico said. “Mum would get really angry about it. Sometimes she would say he thought more about Ayrton than he did about her.”

He shrugged. It was just another typical childhood memory.

“Did Ayrton never talk about Dad?” Nico asked.

Bruno shook his head. “Not that I can remember. We didn’t talk about work much.”

“Oh,” Nico said, a little surprised. He waited for his friend to say something, but Bruno seemed to have spaced out. Nico watched him for a little while, trying to figure out if it was best to try and press his friend over whatever he was thinking about, but the throbbing in his head talked him out of it. “Bruno? If you do not mind, I would like to go back to sleep.”

 

It was late when Bruno got the call from his mother to say they’d landed in the UK. The airport wasn’t far from the hotel, but it would take them a while to get through security, giving Bruno, Ayrton, and Alain enough time to prepare themselves. This had to go right, or nothing else would.

They were back in the little meeting room, Alain and Bruno sat by the window, looking out over an empty courtyard, whilst Ayrton watched them. Nobody had said anything since the phone call.

Nico sat in the corner, still a little hung over, with a mug of awful instant coffee in his hands. There had been no flight to get onto, all fully booked and, if he was honest, he didn’t think he would be able to stomach the flight home. He had been able to get a ticket for the next day, but it was hardly worth going home now, having to fly back over in a couple of days’ time, so he’d decided to just wait here. He doubted his father was going to let him go home with all this going on anyway…

 _It’ll be fine_ , Ayrton told himself, but even as he thought it he felt that strange buzzing in his head, the feeling of something boiling hot filling his ears. Bruno had believed him, hadn’t he? And Alain, eventually? His own family would have to recognise him. They would have to believe him.

Bruno’s phone buzzed, making all three of them jump and Nico look up from his coffee.

“They’re here.”

 

Viviane wondered if it were ever warm in England. The sun was still shining, even if it was late in the day, but that didn’t seem to do anything for the heat, and she stood shivering outside the hotel her son had given her the address to.

“You don’t think he’s gone off and gotten himself married, do you,” Bianca commented.

Viviane shot her a confused look, but she just shrugged. She had to admit, she couldn’t think of any reason for Bruno to drag them all the way over on such short notice. She assumed it was some kind of medical emergency – maybe there’d been an accident and they needed to come – but he’d seemed happy on the phone and when they hadn’t been taken to a hospital she was sure that wasn’t the case.

“Well, if he has gotten himself married, he could have let us know,” Leonardo said, putting his arm around his sister to try and warm her up a little. “We could have dressed appropriately.”

“This is Bruno,” Bianca remarked. “He will not care what we’re wearing. He probably would not dress appropriately himself.”

“Did you let him know we’re here?” Leonardo asked.

As if on cue, the hotel door swung open, but it wasn’t Bruno who came out.

“Alain?”

Alain hurried over, a smile on his face that he had been hoping would settle the family, but they just looked even more confused.

“What’s going on?” Viviane asked. Any thoughts of some kind of secret wedding disappeared. Maybe Bruno really was ill? Maybe it was too bad for a hospital? But Alain wouldn’t be smiling if that was the case, would he?

“You do not have to look so scared,” Alain laughed. “Come inside, into the warmth.”

Viviane and Leonardo shared nervous glances, but they followed Alain into the hotel lobby, Bianca following behind them.

“What’s going on?” Viviane asked again when Alain stopped and turned to them. He still had that smile on his face, and it was beginning to scare Viviane a little.

Alain took a deep breath, hoping this worked as well as it had done inside his head.

“Something has happened,” he began.

“Is Bruno ok?” Viviane asked quickly.

“Bruno’s… fine,” Alain said letting himself grin again. “Bruno’s fine. Everyone’s… fine.”

He had to laugh as he said it. _Fine_. They were more than fine.

“Something has happened,” Alain said. “And we do not know how to explain it.”

“Maybe it’s better you just show us,” Leonardo suggested.

 

“Are you alright?”

It seemed like a stupid question to Bruno, but he didn’t know what else to say. His uncle had gone incredibly pale since Alain had left and he looked as if he was about to throw up. But Ayrton nodded quickly, his eyes still closed. Bruno glanced over at Nico, as if his friend might have some idea what to do, but Nico wasn’t paying attention to them.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bruno asked, quietly, moving the chair so he was sat beside Ayrton.

“I’m fine,” Ayrton whispered, not trusting himself to speak too loudly in case his voice gave away how terrified he was.

“You’re shaking,” Bruno pointed out, taking hold of his uncle’s hand.

Ayrton didn’t say anything, but opened his eyes. Bruno smiled at him – he was always smiling, it seemed – but Ayrton just shook his head and looked away. Bruno’s smile fell a little.

“What’s wrong?”

Ayrton shook his head and tried to smile. “I’m fine, Bruno.”

“If you tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can help,” Bruno said. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“I know,” Ayrton said, gently. He glanced over at Bruno and sighed. He was just trying to help, but Ayrton knew there was nothing Bruno could do. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you believe me?”

“What?”

“If this were the other way around, and someone were to tell me my relative were back from the dead, I would not believe them,” Ayrton said. “I don’t think anybody would. But you did. You do, don’t you?”

“Of course I believe you,” Bruno said. “Alain told me to believe you, and he would not lie to me. Not about this. The same with Nico.”

If it were anybody else, Bruno was sure he wouldn’t have believed it so easily. It was just the kind of awful publicity stunt people pulled. He knew they meant well, but Bruno would never understand their thinking. But Alain wouldn’t do something like this as a joke, he was sure.

It didn’t seem to be what Ayrton wanted to hear. He nodded, only slightly, and went back to staring at the floor. Bruno sighed, not meaning to huff as much as he had did. He glanced over at Nico, looking for some help, but Nico still didn’t look like he was in any state to help.

“They’ll believe you, too,” Bruno said quietly, not sure if this was helping or not but he needed to say something. “They have to.”


	15. Never had much faith in love or miracles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Bruno Mars' Locked out of heaven

Alain took a deep breath and opened the door to the little meeting room. He still hadn’t given a proper explanation and Leonardo and Viviane looked at one another before going inside. Bruno stood, taking a couple of steps forward whilst his mother stood in the doorway. She smiled, relieved, when she saw he was alright. Then her eyes fell onto Ayrton and the smile fell.

“What’s going on?”

Ayrton felt as if his head was burning and Viviane’s glare only made it feel worse. He opened his mouth to try to explain, but nothing at all came out.

“Mum?” Bruno said, stepping forwards and taking his mother’s hand. He tried to guide her gently into the room, but Viviane shook him away, turning her look of shock from her brother to her son.

“What is going on?” she demanded, her voice low and a little threatening.

“Viviane, it’s ok,” Alain insisted, jumping in before Viviane could react as he had done.

Viviane shook her head, stepping away from Alain.

“What are you doing?” she asked, tears starting to choke her voice. “What is going on?”

“Viviane, it’s ok,” Alain said again whilst Leonardo put his arm around his older sister again, glaring at Alain. “We do not understand what’s happened, but I promise you this is true. It’s not a joke.”

“Mum?” Bruno said, again. “I know it is hard to believe but it is true.” He grinned, taking hold of his mum’s hand again and pulling her a little further into the room. “It’s Uncle Ayrton.”

“No,” Viviane whispered, refusing to look at Ayrton.

“Alain, what is wrong with you?” Leonardo snapped, hugging his sister tighter as tears began to roll down her face.

“I know it is difficult to believe,” Alain said. “Ayrton?”

He turned to Ayrton, who was still stood gaping at his family. Silent tears ran down his face and he knew he had to say something – he was going to have to be the one to convince them he was _him_ – but there was nothing to say.

“Why would you do this?” Leonardo hissed.

“It’s _true_ ,” Alain insisted, but he could see he was fighting a losing battle. He turned back to Ayrton. He was going to have to _do_ something. “Ayrton?”

Ayrton shook his head. He needed to convince them, he knew that, but he didn’t know _how_ and he could barely think with the burning in his head and _why_ had this happened to _him_? What had _he_ done to deserve _this_?

“Please,” he managed to croak.

“This isn’t funny,” Bianca said, quietly. “Bruno this isn’t like you.”

“It’s _true_ ,” Bruno said. “Why would I say it wasn’t true if it was? Mum, I know this is impossible. We all _know_ this is impossible, but it has happened. Why would I say it was true if it wasn’t?”

“Enough,” Viviane snapped, pulling away from Leonardo and turning to march out of the room.

“Viviane wait!” Ayrton called before she could leave, finally finding his voice properly. “Please.”

Viviane stopped and the air seemed to still. Nobody said anything as she turned around and looked at her brother again. Ayrton felt himself hold his breath, but the fire inside his head didn’t die down and now he was sure he could feel something dribbling out of his ears, like in the old cartoons where angry characters had steam coming from their heads. Viviane gulped back tears and, not taking her eyes off of Ayrton, strode across the room until she was standing in front of her brother. There was no recognition in her eyes, and Ayrton knew exactly what the look was, he’d seen it often enough from a variety of people. Hatred.

“Do you know what it is like?” Viviane said, so quietly only the two of them would be able to hear her. “To love someone totally from the moment they are born? Do you know what it is like to feel so much pride for someone and so much love for someone and have them ripped away from you? This is a game for you, a sick joke, but I lost my brother. It may have been a long time, but that hurts, every day. I do not expect you to know what that it like. I hope you never do know what that is like. But I would think it is not too much to ask you to be respectful about it.”

“Viviane please,” Ayrton whispered, tears choking his voice. “It’s me.”

Viviane’s glare hardened before she turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Nobody moved to stop her, Leonardo glancing back at Ayrton before hurrying after her.

“Mum, wait,” Bruno called, but Bianca stopped him from following.

“Give her some time before you apologise,” she said, quietly. “Let her calm down. We have some rooms at a bed and breakfast in the village. I’ll send you the address when we get there and maybe you can come and apologise in the morning.”

“This is real,” Bruno insisted. “Look, Bianca. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t know what’s happened, Bruno, but this isn’t true,” Bianca said, sadly, turning and following the rest of the family out of the hotel.

Bruno watched her go, the door swinging shut behind her, then turned to Alain.

“What are we going to do?” They couldn’t just leave them like this, not believing, but he couldn’t think of a way to convince them, either. He’d thought his mother would see that nobody here would lie to them about something like this, so it _had_ to be true. If that didn’t convince her, he didn’t know what would.

“We’ll talk to them in the morning, when they’ve calmed down a little,” Alain said. He tried to smile, to get rid of the worried look on Bruno’s face, but he couldn’t even get the worried look off of his own face. “They will see we are not lying, that we would not continue to insist this for so long.”

“No,” Ayrton said.

“What?”

Ayrton shook his head, trembling so hard he could barely stand.

“They don’t believe me.”

They didn’t believe him. His own family had abandoned him, thought he was a liar, thought he was trying to hurt them. He couldn’t see a way of convincing them and going to them in the morning with the same argument was just going to hurt them again.

“It’s ok,” Bruno insisted, gently rubbing Ayrton’s arm. “We’ll convince them. They have to believe us.”

Ayrton shook his head, but didn’t say anything. His stomach was flipping and he was sure if he opened his mouth he was going to throw up again. It was hopeless.

 

Viviane was still shaking whilst Leonardo checked into the bed and breakfast. When she closed her eyes, she felt an arm wrapped around her again, but it didn’t stop her.

“Mama?”

“I’m ok,” Viviane whispered, shuddering to try and stop herself from starting to cry again. Bianca rested her cheek against her mother’s shoulder.

“We’ll talk to Bruno in the morning,” Bianca said, quietly. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. He’ll have figured out he did something wrong. You know he wouldn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” Viviane said. She didn’t want to think about it. Trying to understand what had been going through her son’s head made her feel sick. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget this entire day had happened.

 

When Viviane woke she knew before she opened her eyes that there was someone else in the room. She could feel the light against her eye lids and the sensation of being watched gripped her body in fear. Then came an impossibly gentle voice.

“It’s ok. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

The voice spoke in Portuguese in an accent Viviane had never heard before, but she felt like she knew the voice. When her heart had calmed down a little, she let herself open her eyes, and sure enough found someone sitting on the end of the bed.

It was a young man Viviane was sure she didn’t recognise, but whenever she tried to focus on him it didn’t work. He was a blur and she couldn’t pick out any of the features of his face. She was sure he smiled when she sat up, though, and, for some reason, she felt like smiling too.

“What’s going on?”

“Your brother is telling the truth,” the man said, the same impossible gentleness to his voice.

“What?”

“Your brother is telling the truth,” he said again, and Viviane could feel the eyes she couldn’t see boring into her. “I know it is difficult for you to understand, but it is true.”

“Ayrton?”

The man nodded, shifting over on the bed a little so he was sat closer to her. Viviane went to move, but found herself frozen to the spot.

“But that can’t be real.”

“It is difficult to understand,” the man said. “But there is a balance of power in this world that must be kept in order. When one dies, another must take their place. Ayrton once gave his life for another to return, and now someone else has given theirs so he can take their place. One day, another will die and the someone else will take their place. It will carry on for as long as the power exists. It’s important to keep the balance.”

“What balance? What are you talking about?” Viviane tried to put some urgency into her voice but there was something about the man that kept her voice calm.

“Be gentle to your brother,” the man advised, ignoring the question. “I know it is difficult for you to understand, but he does not understand this either. This is a new world to him, and you must be sympathetic.”

Viviane slowly shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Her brother was gone, in a place much better than this.

“The world is more complicated than it seems,” the man said, as if he could read her mind.

“Who are you?” Viviane asked, and maybe she should have begun with that question, but nothing seemed to be working inside her mind anymore.

The man smiled again and, though Viviane couldn’t see it, she could feel it in her bones.

“One day you will know the answer to that,” he said. “As you will know the answer to all the other questions you have. But for now, you must have faith that the right thing is happening, and you are helping that. I wish I could say more, but it is not my place.”

“Who are you?” Viviane asked again, trying and failing to shake the calmness from her voice.

“Sleep, Viviane,” the man said, standing. “And think about what I have said.”

Viviane didn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke what felt like moments later, jumping up. There was nobody else in the room, no sign that anybody had been there to disturb her sleep.

 _Just a dream_ , Viviane told herself. She sighed, and was settling back into bed when there was a knock on the door. She jumped again, but went to answer the door. Her youngest brother was stood in his nightclothes in the hallway, his face pale and his hands shaking.

“There was an angel, Viviane.”

“You had the dream too?”

“It’s Ayrton.”


	16. I would not give you false hope on this strange and mournful day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Paul Simon's Mother and Child Reunion

They hated him.

The glare Viviane had given him replayed every time he closed his eyes and he knew there was no way he could go to sleep. He’d been lying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling and trying to convince himself there was some way he could convince them he was telling the truth.

Everything would be alright if they’d just believed him.

He didn’t blame them. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t even know why he believed what was going on himself. He’d known before they’d arrived that they wouldn’t believe him – because what person in their right minds would believe _any_ of this – but he’d hoped… he didn’t know what he’d hoped. They needed to believe him. And now there was no chance of that happening.

There was no plan now. Alain had just insisted that Viviane and Leonardo would believe them if they went back in the morning but Ayrton didn’t even _want_ to go back. He’d hurt them that evening. More than he’d ever done before. And he couldn’t put them through that again when he wasn’t even sure he could convince them.

It was hopeless.

He hadn’t really stayed to listen to much more than Alain insisting everything was going to be ok. He didn’t need sympathy from him and getting it from Bruno just felt weird. This entire thing was just… weird.

Ayrton didn’t know what time it was when he heard a knock at the door, but he got the feeling it was late. He’d stopped crying ages ago, the tears drying up after a while, but he knew their trails had stained his cheeks. He knew he looked a state, but he didn’t bother to change that before opening the door.

“Nicolas?”

“Sorry it’s late,” Nico said.

“No, it’s fine,” Ayrton said, trying to smile a little.

Nico looked a little sheepish. It was clear he’d not long got up either, hair a mess and sleep dust still clinging to his eye lashes.

“My friends phoned,” Nico said. “The ones getting you your ID. They say they need a photo.”

“And you decided to get that at this time of night?” Ayrton asked.

“Sorry,” Nico said again. “I just didn’t want to forget about it.”

He knew how important it was to get this sorted, and forgetting about the photo and delaying the process was just going to give his father another thing to moan about, but maybe the middle of the night wasn’t the best time to come round.

“I can come back in the morning to do it,” Nico said. “If you would prefer.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ayrton said, standing aside and letting him in. He closed the door behind him and flicked on the light switch. “You have a camera?”

“I’ll just do it on my phone,” Nico said, taking his mobile from his pocket. His friends had said they’d be able to make the photo fit if he could take one that looked professional.

“Your phone?” Ayrton asked, eyeing the little device Nico had taken out of his pocket.

“Yeah,” Nico said, scrolling through apps in search for the camera. “I know it is not ideal but the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get you identification.”

“You are going to take a picture on your _phone_?” Ayrton said, slowly.

“Yeah,” Nico said, a little confused. “Then I can just send it off to them and- oh.” It suddenly hit him why Ayrton looked so confused and he couldn’t stop himself grinning. “There is going to be a lot we are going to have to explain.”

Ayrton just nodded, letting Nico direct him so he could take the photo.

“There,” the Frenchman said, showing Ayrton the screen before sending the photo to his friend. “Hopefully that will be all sorted soon.”

“That is one thing, I suppose,” Ayrton muttered, sitting down heavily in the little chair.

The smile on Nico’s face fell. He hadn’t known what to say when Ayrton’s family had left, and had left the room quickly afterwards to avoid making things any worse. He still didn’t know what to say now, but he knew he couldn’t leave Ayrton alone like this.

“Dad will sort everything out,” Nico said. “That is what he does.”

Ayrton shook his head. This wasn’t going to be sorted out quite so easily.

“What am I going to do?” he mumbled, not really speaking to Nico.

The Frenchman cocked his head a little, and it reminded Ayrton so much of Alain it was scary.

“We will figure something out,” Nico said. “We are going to have to, aren’t we?”

It didn’t seem like they were going to have a choice.

 

Bruno wasn’t sure if he was dreaming about the phone ringing or if it was actually happening, but he knew he was too tired to open his eyes and find out. It could not be morning. It just couldn’t be.

The shrill ringing didn’t stop.

Bruno refused to believe he had to be awake already. He cracked open his eyes, preparing himself for the disappointment of a reasonable time on the alarm clock. Two twenty seven. Half two in the morning. Who was phoning at half two in the morning?

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mr Senna. This is front desk.”

“It’s half two in the morning,” Bruno mumbled. He didn’t remember requesting a wake up call.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the woman on the front desk said. “But your mother’s here, demanding to speak to you.”

“My what?” Bruno asked, still half asleep.

“Your mother, Mr Senna,” the woman said before dropping her voice a little. “She seems a little distressed.”

“Why is my mother here?” Bruno asked.

“I don’t know,” the woman said. “She just says she needs to speak to you.”

“Alright,” Bruno said, trying to drag himself up before placing the phone back in the holder. He was going to have to speak to her, see what was wrong. She’d probably just come to tell him he was crazy, but it was better he go down and humour her than leave her waiting all night.

 

Viviane engulfed Bruno in a hug as soon as he came into the entrance hall, smothering him before he knew what was going on.

“Mum? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Where is he?” Viviane asked, letting Bruno go. Bruno looked between his mother and Leonardo, who stood just behind Viviane. He gaped at the two of them, trying to figure out what was gone with his sleep logged brain but it was hopeless. Viviane groaned at her son’s slowness “Bruno? Where is he?”

“Where’s who?” Bruno asked.

“Ayrton,” Viviane said. It was only now Bruno noticed his mother was crying and, whilst his brain dragged itself out of its sleepy state, he couldn’t figure out why, or what she was talking about. The look of confusion on Bruno’s face only made her tremble more. “Please tell me he’s here Bruno.”

He had to be here. She had come to apologise, to take back all the things she had said before. Her stomach rolled just thinking about how she’d treated her brother. What if he wasn’t here? What if he was gone for good again, all because she’d treated him so badly? She didn’t understand what was going on, and that was a possibility, wasn’t it? If this was true, and she knew now that it _was_ true, then anything could be true.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Viviane whispered. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you but I do now. I know the truth. I need to see him.”

“Oh!” Bruno cried, realising what his mother was talking about. “Wait, you believe us?”

He looked around the entrance hall, half expecting Alain or Nico to be there, having gone to explain and convince them, but there was nobody else here.

Viviane bit her lip and nodded, wiping her eyes again.

Bruno huffed a relieved laugh before hugging his mother. He had no idea what had happened between when she’d left that evening and now, but he didn’t care.

“Uncle Ayrton is going to be so happy.”

“I need to speak to him, Bruno,” Viviane said, pulling away from Bruno. “Please.”

 

Nico was still in Ayrton’s hotel room when Bruno knocked on the door. He didn’t think he’d been much help, having no idea how to convince Ayrton that Viviane’s reaction hadn’t been the end of the world, but he’d at least managed to distract Ayrton from that a little while.

Ayrton didn’t move at the sound of the knocking.

“You should probably get that,” Nico said, nodding to the door.

“It will be your father,” Ayrton muttered. Who else would be looking for him at this time in the morning?

“Maybe he’s managed to speak to Viviane,” Nico suggested, standing. If Ayrton wasn’t going to answer it, he would.

“I asked him not to,” Ayrton said, his eyes following Nico as he crossed the room.

“Yes, but my father does whatever he likes anyway,” Nico said, shooting Ayrton a small smile. “I thought we established this as fact?”

Ayrton couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. He had to wonder how Nico had managed to put up with Alain for so long.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Alain at the door.

“Bruno?”

Ayrton stood and was on his way over to the door when he spotted Viviane and stopped. He wasn’t ready for another hate filled look. Not so soon.

Viviane didn’t say anything as she came into the room. Nico didn’t know if he should be saying anything, but Bruno had a grin on his face. Leonardo hung back in the hallway, only coming inside when Bruno nudged him into the room.

“It’s really you?” Viviane asked.

Ayrton nodded, sick rising in his throat. He couldn’t be rejected again so soon.

Viviane took another couple of steps forward and, with a trembling hand, cupped Ayrton’s cheek. The tear filled eyes that looked back at her were too familiar to be deniable and, knowing it was all true, Viviane couldn’t believe she’d ever doubted it.

“Viviane please,” Ayrton croaked again, not trusting himself to say anymore in case he really was sick again.

“I’m sorry,” Viviane whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Beco.”


	17. There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Avicii's Hey Brother

“This doesn’t seem like such a good idea to me,” Viviane said after listening to the plan they’d come up with. “Do you know how bad this would look?”

“It’s better than the alternative,” Ayrton said. They didn’t have many other options, really, besides telling the truth, but Ayrton had ruled that out by now. Nico had spoken a lot of sense before. He couldn’t tell the truth.

“It would make us out to be ashamed,” Viviane said. Her hand rested on top of her brother’s and her eyes stayed on them. She still hadn’t really accepted the fact that all of this was true. Listening to the explanation, she’d felt as if she were in a dream and, if it weren’t for the angel, she would have been inclined to believe that.

“It is not ideal,” Ayrton admitted. “But it is the best we have.”

Viviane shook her head. “There must be a better way.”

“I agree,” Leonardo said. “It does not even make sense. How can we have kept a child a secret for thirty four years? And _why_ after all this time, have we decided we no longer wish to keep it a secret now?”

Leonardo looked between his brother and his nephew, waiting for one of them to give him an answer, but it didn’t look like either of them had thought this through.

Nico was stood to the side. He was sure he shouldn’t still be here, intruding on the family moment, but he hadn’t yet found the right moment to leave.

“It is obvious, isn’t it?” he said, making Bruno jump. He’d forgotten Nico was still there.

All four Sennas looked up at him from where they were sat on the floor.

“How?” Leonardo asked, suspiciously.

“Come and sit down, Nicolas,” Ayrton offered, shifting over a little so that there was space between himself and Bruno.

Nico shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his face going a little redder than he would have liked, before taking up the offer and sitting between Ayrton and Bruno.

“How is it obvious?” Leonardo asked again.

“Well,” Nico said slowly. “The mother.”

Viviane and Leonardo turned to Ayrton for an explanation, but Ayrton looked just as confused as they did.

“Ayrton is the father of this child,” Nico said, slowly. “And who is the mother?”

All four of them blinked stupidly at him and it was clear to Nico that none of them had any idea what he was getting on at.

“Nobody?” Bruno said, slowly.

Nico nodded. “Nobody,” he said. “So we say she is a very shy woman who wanted to stay anonymous and out of the lime light.”

Nobody said anything, all waiting to see where Nico was going with this.

“And so she wanted her son to stay out of the limelight too,” Nico finished.

It seemed like a good explanation to him. He was sure his father had some better idea, or an idea that he _thought_ was better, but Nico was confident his idea could work. Looking around the small circle, it looked like the Sennas agreed with him.

“You really think we would have been able to keep this a secret for so long though?” Leonardo asked, not wanting to believe that this was an explanation.

Nico shrugged. “I think you could have if you wanted to. I do not think people would be surprised that you _could_ keep it a secret.”

The fact that they _had_ kept it secret was a different matter…

“And so why now?” Leonardo asked. “This imaginary woman decides she changes her mind?”

“Maybe,” Nico said, leaning back a little. “Or maybe she died?”

Ayrton, who had been nodding his head along with Nico’s ideas, stopped. “Dead?”

“Yes,” Nico said. “Because then there is nothing stopping you from announcing your existence to the world, is there? You do not have to worry about keeping her happy anymore. And then we do not have to deal with people wanting to know where she is, either.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Bruno said.

Nico shrugged. “A little.”

The older Sennas were silent as they considered it and Nico couldn’t really read what they were thinking from their faces.

Viviane shook her head first. “I do not like it.”

Nico stifled a sigh. He wasn’t really surprised.

“What does your father think?” Viviane asked.

“I don’t know,” Nico said. “But I cannot think of a better idea.”

“It’s good,” Ayrton said, patting Nico on the back and making the Frenchman blush a little. “I think we should go with it.”

“Ayrton, you’re not thinking straight,” Viviane tried to insist, but her brother shook his head.

“Trust me, Viviane,” he said with a smile that Viviane could not deny was her brother’s.

 

“Why did you believe us?” Ayrton asked quietly. He was exhausted and pretty sure he was going to fall asleep at any moment, but he didn’t want to let himself succumb to the tiredness. He almost laughed as he thought it, remembering how Bruno had been the night before, but it still felt a little like a dream that Viviane and Leonardo believed him.

“Huh?”

“I didn’t blame you for not believing me,” Ayrton said, quietly. It was just him and his siblings left in the room now. Nico had left a couple of hours ago, and Bruno had gone back to bed not long afterwards. They’d spent the past couple of hours catching him up with how the family was, what had been going on in their lives since he left, but the question had been bugging him all the while.

“I’m sorry,” Viviane said, again. “We should never have-.”

“You did what anybody would have done,” Ayrton said, cutting his sister off before she could finish apologising again. “But what made you change your mind?”

Viviane and Leonardo looked at one another. They were both certain about what had happened, but it sounded insane.

“It does not sound true, but we promise it is,” Leonardo said.

Ayrton laughed. “Apparently I have come back from the dead after twenty years,” he said. “I think I am open to pretty much anything right now.”

“I suppose,” Leonardo said. “An angel came. In a dream. He came to both of us and told us you were telling the truth.”

Ayrton stared at Leonardo. He’d thought he’d believed anything his siblings would say, but he definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“An angel?”

Viviane nodded and began retelling her dream to Ayrton. She’d never had a dream she could remember so vividly so long afterwards but, as she told the story, she could see the scene again, the man she was now sure was an angel sat on the edge of her bed, and just thinking about him calmed her a little.

Leonardo was nodding as his sister told the same story he remembered, about the balance of power that made as much sense to him as it had Viviane.

Ayrton watched Viviane as she told the story, trying to pick out any signs that she was pulling his leg because this couldn’t-. He stopped himself before he finished the thought. How many times had he thought that over the past few days?

“I asked him who he was but he said he couldn’t tell me,” Viviane finished. “But one day I would know and- Ayton, what’s wrong?”

Beside her, Ayrton was shaking and she was sure she could see tears in his eyes, though the two dim lights didn’t give the room the best lighting. Ayrton hurriedly wiped his eyes and shook his head, considering lying and saying he was ok, but he knew neither of his siblings would believe that.

“I was scared,” he said, quietly, looking down at the floor.

“Of us not believing you?” Viviane asked, taking hold of Ayrton’s hand again.

“No,” Ayrton said. “Well, yes, this too. But even before that. I… I don’t remember anything. Everything between the moment I died and waking up here does not exist. There’s no… no heaven. No afterlife at all. Just… nothing. And I was scared that it wasn’t…”

He didn’t want to finish the sentence. He didn’t want to admit what he’d been feeling over the past couple of days, even to himself. How much he doubted everything he’d ever been taught. Looking back at all the whispers of doubt now, he felt ashamed, when an angel had been sent to his siblings. How could he have ever doubted it?

“Oh Ayrton,” Viviane sighed, pulling her brother into a hug again.

“Remember what he said?” Leonardo said, shifting closer. “It’s ok for you to not understand. It’s ok for you to feel like that. He understands.”

Ayrton nodded, exhaustion and being over emotional making his eyelids heavy. Of course He understood. He always did.


	18. what would you expect with a conscience so small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God this chapter title is so perfect for the character who comes into it here.  
> Chapter title from Sum 41's Fat Lip  
> There's a memory in this chapter but it's not of any crash or anything.

Alain was making plans for going to see Viviane whilst he had breakfast. He was sure she’d be willing to speak to him, having had the night to calm down a little. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to spring Ayrton on her like that. Once he spoke to her and explained to her in a calm environment, he was sure she would believe him.

“Have you seen Nico yet?”

Sebastien was grinning as he sat down opposite Alain, taking a menu from the waitress even though he knew it by heart now, the amount of time he’d been sat in the dining room waiting…

“Not this morning, no,” Alain said. What kind of trouble could Nico have gotten himself into this early?

“He was pretty bad the other night,” Sebastien said, his grin widening as he remembered the morning after the party. He’d seen Nico drunk before, a few times. They’d gone out celebrating on a number of occasions, but Sebastien had never been there to see the after effects of those nights. They were rather amusing.

Alain made a non-committing hum, drinking his coffee. He’d guessed that much after seeing the state of his son the evening before. At least it looked like he’d enjoyed himself. That was the main thing.

“Where did you run off to anyway?” Sebastien pried. He hadn’t seen Alain since he’d arrived with Nico, the older Frenchman disappearing not long after.

“When?” Alain asked. Normally he’d happily sit and talk with his driver but right now he wanted to figure out what he was going to say to Viviane. He needed to be better prepared than he had been the night before if he wanted to make this work. And if anyone was going to make it work, it was going to have to be him.

“At the party,” Sebastien said. “You disappeared.”

“I don’t remember,” Alain said. It couldn’t have been anything important.

 

_Alain watched his son be pulled to the bar by the other drivers. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be long until he was enjoying himself. The only reason Nico had been so insistent he wouldn’t enjoy himself was because he seemed to believe everything Alain did was bad._

_Alain just did not… did not understand that. He’d expect this kind of thing from a rebellious teenager, not a man in his mid-thirties. Maybe his son took his endurance racing team name too much for heart…_

_Drink in hand, Alain tried to find the people he had been chatting to before he’d gone off to find Nico, but he wasn’t in the mood to enjoy the party anymore. Swaying a little – maybe he was a little more drunk than he’d told Nico – Alain headed back outside, away from      the thumping music._

_He didn’t remember making the phone call, but wasn’t surprised when he heard Nelson’s voice in his ear. It had become something like a norm now._

_“What time is it?” Nelson asked, sleepily._

_“What have I done wrong?” Alain asked, ignoring the question. If he had had a little less to drink, he might have apologised for waking him up, but right now he just needed someone to rant to, and Nelson was always happy to be that person._

_“I don’t know Alain,” Nelson said, the roll of his eyes practically audible over the phone. “What have you done wrong?”_

_“Nico hates me.”_

_“He doesn’t hate you,” Nelson said, following the same script he always followed. “You know what kids are like.”_

_“Your son doesn’t hate you,” Alain pointed out. Maybe it was because he was there, all the time. Nico thought he was over controlling but he wasn’t, not really. He was doing what was best for his son, and he loved working with Nico. Loved to see how happy he was when he did well, loved to be there for him when he didn’t. He’d tried to explain to Nico it wasn’t about being controlling, but Nico didn’t seem to understand. He didn’t understand a lot of things._

_“And yours doesn’t hate you,” Nelson said._

_“I’m so proud of him Nelson.”_

_“I know you are.”_

_“I told him but he doesn’t believe me,” Alain said. “Why doesn’t he believe me?”_

_“He probably does,” Nelson said, calmly. “Stop worrying about it.”_

_“I’m just so, so proud of him,” Alain whispered. “And I’m so scared.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Because he reminds me of him so much sometimes,” Alain said. It was the same thing as always – the same conversation pretty much word for word. It never changed. Nelson couldn’t make the fear go away. “He just… it scares me so much. In Beijing last year.”_

_“Everyone was fine though,” Nelson reminded him, gently._

_“Yes, but they might not have been,” Alain said. “He could have killed himself and he didn’t think twice about it. Would rather have knocked himself out of the race than give up first place.”_

_“Nico has a sensible head on his shoulders,” Nelson tried to assure him. “Most of the time.”_

_“And now the… the idiot is back,” Alain mumbled, taking another gulp of his drink even though he knew he didn’t really need to._

_“He’s not a- wait, what?” Nelson was used to the same old conversation, but Alain seemed to have strayed off script._

_“I have to deal with both of them,” Alain said. “I can’t do this, Nelson. I can’t handle them both at once.”_

_“Alain, what are you talking about?”_

_“AND THEN HE OFFERED HIM SALAD!” Alain cried, startling the people who were stood smoking a little way away._

_“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Alain,” Nelson said. “Who offered who salad?”_

_“And I don’t even know how it happened, Nelson,” Alain admitted. “I just don’t.”_

_“Ok, I’m coming over there,” Nelson said. There was something very wrong about all this._

_Alain nodded, leaning against the wall a little to stop himself swaying so much._

_“Nelson?”_

_“Yes Alain?”_

_“I think… I think I’m drunk.”_

_“I think you are too, Alain,” Nelson said. “I’ll be there tomorrow. The day after at the latest. Go and find someone to look after you.”_

“It’s not true about Nico moving team, is it?” Sebastien asked, a little worried. As funny as it had been, Nico hadn’t seemed best pleased with his father the day before.

“Of course not,” Alain said. He’d thought Sebastien would have figured that out by now.

He checked his watch. Would it be too early to go call and find out where Viviane was staying? It was already past nine o’clock, but Alain had no idea when they’d gotten to sleep the night before. Maybe Viviane would be jet-lagged and wouldn’t appreciate the early start?

Well, there was only one way he could find out…

“I’m sorry,” Alain said, standing. “I have to go and make a call.”

“All you Prosts ever do is ditch me,” Sebastien joked.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” Alain said, thanking the waitress as he left the dining room.

He had the phone in his hand when he came into the entrance hall, but stopped before he could call anybody.

“Alain! I was just about to call you.”

Nelson Piquet smiled as he crossed the front hall, leaving a small suitcase at the front desk.

“What are you doing here?” Alain asked, freezing up a little as Nelson greeted him.

“I came to make sure you were ok,” Nelson said. “I did tell you I was going to. Don’t you remember? Actually, you probably don’t. You seemed pretty drunk.”

“No I- oh.”

Alain remembered now. He really needed to get out of the habit of calling Nelson when he was drunk – or anybody for that matter. He struggled to remember what exactly he’d said that made Nelson come all the way over here, but he couldn’t remember any of the conversation.

“Let me just check in and then we’ll get something to eat,” Nelson said, leading Alain back over to the desk. “I’m starving.”

“No, actually, I have to go and speak to someone,” Alain said, but Nelson ignored him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come any sooner,” Nelson said, handing his ID to the woman at the reception. “I wanted to come yesterday, but there were things I needed to clear up back home.”

“You really didn’t need to come,” Alain said, still trying to remember what he’d said.

“I was worried about you, Alain,” Nelson said, signing his name on the register the receptionist gave him and accepting his keys. “I’m used to you drunk but that was something else. You were going on about someone being back and not making any sense. What’s been going on, hey?”

He turned to shoot Alain a grin, but his smile fell when he saw the look of horror on his friend’s face.

He’d screwed up. He had definitely screwed up.

“Alain?”

How on earth was he supposed to recover this?

“Alain, you’re scaring me now,” Nelson said, taking Alain over to a group of chairs on the other side of the room. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Alain opened his mouth to reply, hoping he could come up with something to stop Nelson worrying and somehow save the entire situation, but nothing came out.

“Where’s Nico?” Nelson asked. Maybe he would know what was going on.

“It’s Ayrton,” Alain managed to spit out.

Nelson sighed, a little relieved. No immediate problem then. “What about him?”

“He… he had a child,” Alain admitted.

“What?”

Alain sighed. Maybe he should have spoken to Ayrton before telling Nelson about this, but he didn’t think he had much of a choice.

“Ayrton had a son,” he said quietly. “And this isn’t like last time. His family know about him. Ayrton knew about him too, apparently.”

Nelson stared at him in disbelief. Alain held his breath. This was the first test of the plan Nico had come up with, and if Nelson didn’t believe it, Alain didn’t have much hope of anybody else believing it.

“A son?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since about thirty four years ago, apparently,” Alain said.

“Shit,” Nelson whispered. He looked away from Alain, trying to find some kind of answer to his questions somewhere else in the hall, but his brain wasn’t coming up with anything. “He kept it a secret all this time?”

Alain nodded, a little surprised that this was working.

“And he’s here?” Nelson asked. “Where? I want to see him.”

“What?”

“I want to meet him,” Nelson said.

Oh, Ayrton was going to love this…

“Why don’t we meet for lunch?” Alain suggested.


	19. Enemies never die, conflict is unending, chaos never ceases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Immortal Enemies, by hatebreed.  
> Just a little warning that Jules is in this chapter.

Ayrton woke with the sun warming his face, making his vision a blur of orange before he opened his eyes. The quiet chirping of birds filled the air, mixed with the gentle sloshing of water and, whilst Ayrton lay there with his eyes closed and the sun on his face, he got the impression he was swaying.

 _Ah_ , he thought, as he tried to make sense of what was going on. He must have been fishing. Many times he’d fallen asleep in the tranquil environment after taking the small boat out.

Trying not to shift too much, Ayrton sat up and rubbed his eyes, but he didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt the exact opposite.

At the other end of the boat, a little boy, only six or seven years old, gazed up at him, terror filling his eyes. Ayrton froze as soon as he spotted the boy, all the pleasant feelings disappearing in an instant. That was… unexpected.

“Hello?”

The boy didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at Ayrton as if he was the scariest thing the child had ever seen.

“What’s the matter?” Ayrton asked, gently shifting a little closer to the boy and trying to not make the boat rock too much.

“Where are we?” the little boy asked in a French accent.

“Well, we’re…” Ayrton looked around, trying to find out where they were, when he realised they weren’t in any lake he recognised. They weren’t in a lake at all, it seemed, but drifting down an unfamiliar river, the shores not ones Ayrton had ever seen before. “I don’t know.”

The boy sniffled.

“But it looks like a nice place, doesn’t it,” Ayrton said, sitting beside the boy and trying to cheer him up. “Look, the sun is shining. And the birds are singing. And all those trees over there look beautiful, don’t they?”

Tears began to fall down the boy’s face and Ayrton wrapped an arm around him as he shook. He still looked scared to death, Ayrton noticed, and he didn’t entirely blame the child. This was weird.

“Where are we going?” the boy asked between sobs.

Ayrton sighed, trying to come up with an answer that would comfort the boy, but it didn’t seem like there was one.

“I don’t know,” Ayrton admitted. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember getting on the boat. “But hey,” he said quickly, realising that wasn’t comforting in the slightest. “It cannot be a bad place, can it? Because I would not get on a boat if it was going to a bad place.”

He hoped that was true.

“And I’m sure your parents wouldn’t put you on a boat going to a bad place either,” he said.

The sobs only increased and Ayrton knew he’d said something else wrong.

“I don’t even remember getting on the boat,” the boy cried.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Ayrton cooed, shifting so he was knelt in front of the boy and taking both of the child’s hands in his. “I don’t remember either. I’m Ayrton, by the way. What’s your name?”

The boy sniffed and pulled one of his hands away to wipe his eyes, trying to calm down.

“Jules.”

“Right then, Jules,” Ayrton said. “I am going to look after you, alright. We will sort out where we are going as soon as we can. And we will sort out why and where your parents are.        It’ll be an adventure, won’t it? Does that sound good?”

Jules nodded, but the frown on his face said he wasn’t entirely convinced.

 

The banging on the door woke Ayrton from the dream, but he didn’t get up to answer it straight away. There was something about the boy in the dream that seemed familiar, something about the entire dream that seemed familiar, like déjà vu, but he was sure it had never happened before.

Weird.

 _Like_ _just_ _about_ _everything_ _else_ _that_ _is_ _going_ _on_ _right_ _now_ , Ayrton thought as he got up to answer the door.

“Have you only just gotten up?” Alain asked once he saw the state Ayrton was in.

“You _woke_ me up,” Ayrton said. “What time is it?”

“You’ve spoken to Viviane?” Alain asked. He’d called to make sure it was ok for him to come over and what did he find? That she and Leonardo had already spoken to Ayrton and he’d somehow managed to convince them this was all true. “Without speaking to me first?”

“She came over last night,” Ayrton said.

“And you managed to convince her?” Alain asked. He didn’t believe this.

“Something like that,” Ayrton said with a small smile.

“Something like that?” Alain asked. “What does that mean? Does she believe you or not?”

“She believes me,” Ayrton said. “Did you just wake me up to moan at me or was there something else?”

“We’re going to lunch,” Alain said.

“What?”

“Or breakfast, for you, it looks like,” Alain continued. “Come on. Get dressed and we can get going.”

Ayrton rolled his eyes but turned back into his room to change out of the clothes he’d slept in, before realising he still didn’t have any clothes other than the set Bruno had brought him. Coming back from the dead had a lot of practicality problems…

 

Ayrton sat opposite Alain in the empty dining room. It was a little earlier than their usual lunchtime service, and they had the dining room to themselves. Alain thought it better they all decided the best way to announce Ayrton’s existence to the wider world together, rather than letting rumours start in a crowded restaurant.

“Is Nico joining us?” Ayrton asked, eyeing the third chair at the table.

“Not Nico, no,” Alain said, carefully. He knew Ayrton wouldn’t stick around if he found out who else would be coming too early.

Ayrton frowned. “Viviane?”

“Are you just going to keep guessing until they arrive?” Alain asked.

“Not if you tell me who it is,” Ayrton pointed out. He didn’t like the smile on Alain’s face. It looked suspicious.

“He should be here soon,” Alain said, turning to the menu. He could feel Ayrton watching him and it only made his grin grow. Maybe it wasn’t fair for him to be doing this. Maybe he should be a little kinder with Ayrton after everything he’d been through over the past few days. But he’d say that Nelson hadn’t _really_ given him much of a choice. Yes, he could make that sound believable. Maybe…

“Is it Leonardo?” Ayrton guessed.

“I am not going to tell you,” Alain sang.

“Fine,” Ayrton snapped, standing. “I’m not going to sit here if you’re-.”

“Oh… my… God.”

Ayrton’s head spun around fast enough to give himself whiplash and his mouth fell open. Nelson’s shocked look slowly turned into a disbelieving smile and he shook his head.

“I guess it’s true then,” Nelson said. “Ayrton Senna’s son. Never could I imagine this would ever happen.”

Alain had managed to stop himself from laughing without having to fake a coughing fit and stood to greet Nelson and guide him over to the table. Ayrton couldn’t actually believe Alain had tricked him into this, and his shock had stolen his voice for a moment. Nelson was smiling and shaking his hand, but he could do nothing but observe what was happening.

“I should probably officially introduce myself,” Nelson said. “Nelson Piquet. Though I guess you already knew that.”

Ayrton managed to nod, sitting down as Nelson and Alain did.

“Do you have a name?” Nelson asked. “Or shall I just call you Ayrton’s kid.”

“Ayrton,” Ayrton said without thinking.

“Ayrton?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Nelson said, shooting Alain a smile. “He named his son after himself. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“And you named your son after Nelson Mandela, did you?” Alain asked, handing Nelson a menu.

“I didn’t say it was anything _bad_ ,” Nelson insisted, turning his attention to the menu.

Ayrton tried to do the same, hoping the ache in his stomach was just due to the fact he hadn’t eaten for about a day and not because simply being sat beside Piquet made him ill. He couldn’t believe this had actually happened, that Alain had been this _evil_. What had he done to deserve this?

“So what brings you here then?” Nelson asked. “Alain hasn’t asked you to replace Nico already has he?”

“I’m not replacing Nico,” Alain said, rolling his eyes. “What are you eating?”

“Are you paying?” Nelson asked, suspiciously.

“Yes, I am paying,” Alain sighed.

“Just checking,” Nelson said, focusing on the meal choices on the menu.

Ayrton just couldn’t stop staring at him. He hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid meal in the first place, but now he was sure he was going to be sick if he put anything into his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d _trusted_ Alain. Alain who was still grinning down at his menu. He’d known _exactly_ what he’d done…

“So, Ayrton,” Nelson said, looking up. “Do you race?”

Ayrton blinked at Nelson stupidly, still trying to understand what was going on. Nelson just laughed at him, patting him on the back.

“No need to look so star struck, kid,” he said. “Your father was the same when I first met him. Don’t worry about it.”

“Please don’t talk about him,” Ayrton said, quietly, feeling his face go bright red.

“What?”

“Please don’t talk about him,” Ayrton said, a little louder, feeling the lump in his throat push its way higher.

“Why not?”

“Leave him alone, Nelson,” Alain said quickly. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Really, Nelson was the _last_ person they needed to find out the truth and he’d already nearly blown it once. He couldn’t let Ayrton kick off and do something he’d regret.

“Fine, fine,” Nelson said, rolling his eyes. “Where’s this waitress anyway?”

Nelson didn’t seem to have changed at all, Ayrton thought. If anything, he’d managed to get _worse_ , or maybe that was just the surprise of seeing him. He couldn’t stop himself glaring at Nelson whenever the older Brazilian wasn’t looking – not that he was making much of an effort to stop.

“Now, Ayrton,” Nelson said, once he’d finished ordering and sent the waitress hurrying away. “You’ve probably heard a lot of stories about how your father and I didn’t get along. And they’re all true. And I did quite a bit of digging to try and come up with something on him, and I never came across _you_.”

“Nelson,” Alain warned.

“I’m just curious Alain,” Nelson said. “Three and a half decades. That’s quite a while to keep something a secret.”

“My mother did not want to be in the limelight,” Ayrton said, carefully. “And she did not want me to be in the limelight either. I think you of all people would understand why.”

“So Ayrton _didn’t_ know about you?” Nelson said.

“He knew and was an important part of my childhood,” Ayrton said shortly. “And I’d rather you did not talk about him.”

Nelson just smirked. “A lot like him, isn’t he Alain?”

Alain rolled his eyes again, trying to work out how he could get them out of this without it looking suspicious. This was definitely not his greatest idea.

The waitress was smiling politely as she came over with the drinks, but Ayrton could see it was fake and, as she hurried away again, he wished he could go with her.

“So,” Nelson said, nudging Ayrton, “What made you decide to cash in on the name now, then?”

“Well,” Ayrton said, slowly. “My mother died.”

Alain spluttered on his drink whilst Nelson’s mouth fell open. Ayrton tried to hide the smug smile behind his own glass of water, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t working.

“Oh,” Nelson said, quietly, the grin having fallen from his face and out of his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Ayrton murmured.

“I had no idea,” Nelson said, moving his chair a little closer to Ayrton to try and pat the younger man on the back, but Ayrton flinched away. “I’m so sorry.”

Ayrton didn’t reply, shifting slightly further away from Nelson. The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, neither Alain nor Nelson sure what to say next and Ayrton enjoying having the two of them squirming. They’d plotted together to make this happen. The least he could do was make sure they were enjoying it just as much as he was.

“How long?” Nelson asked, eventually. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

“A couple of months,” Ayrton said.

“So what?” Nelson asked, beginning to regain his voice again. “She dies and you just decide to announce your existence to the world?”

“Do you have to be so insensitive, Nelson?” Alain muttered.

“I’ve come to support my cousin,” Ayrton said, sharply. “It is something I have wanted to do for a very long time, but I did not want to upset my mother and draw attention to her. Now I can support Bruno without that happening. Do you have any other questions?”


	20. I feel something so wrong doing the right thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from One Republic's Counting Stars.  
> Alain and Ayrton talk about Jules at the end of this chapter.

“He reminds me a lot of his father,” Nelson said as he and Alain walked up to his room together.

Alain had been grateful when Ayrton had managed to slip back up to his own room halfway through the meal. He should have known it wasn’t going to go well, and all Ayrton’s awkward squirming wasn’t enough to make the disaster worth sitting through. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he knew. Nelson seemed to believe all the stories Ayrton had managed to come up with. And if Nelson believed it, then it made Alain feel a little more confident that everyone else would.

“You better watch that one,” Nelson warned as they reached his room. “In case he really is like him.”

“Ayrton wasn’t that bad you know,” Alain said.

“It’s funny,” Nelson said, unlocking the room. “When someone dies, people tend to forget the bad things about them.”

“So I guess we will all forget you existed when you die then,” Alain said.

Nelson pretended to look hurt but there was a grin in his eye that made Alain smile. “I came all the way out here to make sure you weren’t having a mental break down,” the Brazilian pointed out.

“You did,” Alain said, following Nelson into the room. “Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?” Nelson said. “You really worried me the other day, you know.”

Alain nodded. He still couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to make Nelson think he needed to come all the way out here, but knew it was definitely something to do with Ayrton. He’d probably been hysterical, he usually was when he was drunk.

“I’m sorry,” Alain said. “Sorry you wasted your time coming up here.”

“Wasted my time!” Nelson laughed. “You think I would want to miss this?”

He grinned and patted Alain on the back before heading over to the mini fridge on the other side of the room to see if there was anything he could offer his friend.

“You know you can’t tell anybody about this, don’t you?” Alain said, watching Nelson crouched down in front of the fridge.

“Why?”

“Because!” Alain cried, as if it were obvious. “It’s up to Ayrton to decide what he wants to do next. You can’t just run off and tell the press.”

“Fine!” Nelson said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Alain tried to hide the relief but couldn’t help a small sigh escaping when Nelson turned back around to grab a bottle from the fridge.

 

“I hate you.”

Alain couldn’t help but smile as Ayrton let him into his hotel room. He knew he’d done the wrong thing. He’d very almost _really_ screwed up. But seeing the glare on Ayrton’s face made him laugh and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Of all the people on the planet,” Ayrton snapped, slamming the door shut once Alain was inside. “You manage to find the _one_ person who I would like to see _less_ than you.”

“Nelson offered me a drink when I went back to his room,” Alain pointed out.

“Nelson Piquet,” Ayrton cried. “ _Nelson. Piquet_.”

“I’m sorry, ok,” Alain said. He didn’t really see why Ayrton was making such a big deal out of all of this. Nelson was going to find out about him sooner or later. It was hardly as if he knew the truth. “I phoned him the other day and he thought I needed him here. For support. I didn’t know he was coming until this morning when he was already here.”

“Yes, but you knew he was going to be at lunch, didn’t you,” Ayrton shot. “You phoned him about me?”

“I phoned him about Nico,” Alain said. “Funnily enough, my life still does not revolve around you, though I know you might find that difficult to understand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ayrton asked.

“Nothing,” Alain sighed, shaking his head. “Just… nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Ayrton said, folding his arms. That wasn’t really the apology he wanted. It didn’t feel enough for what Alain had done to him, but he knew he wasn’t going to get anything more from him.

“I really didn’t know he was coming,” Alain said. “Look at it this way, we know this story is believable. If Nelson believes it, then anyone will.”

“ _If_ Nelson believes it,” Ayrton pointed out.

“He believes it, Ayrton,” Alain said. “Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Ayrton spat. “You know he is going to go off and find out everything he can about me now? I would not be surprised if he is going through every funeral home in Brazil right now to try and find out who my mother is. You _know_ what he is like, Alain.”

“He’s not like that anymore,” Alain said, trying not to sigh again. “He’s been a good friend to me for years now.”

Ayrton just shook his head, falling heavily into the chair and glaring at the floor. There was about as much point arguing with Alain about this as there was trying to get a proper apology out of him. The Frenchman just didn’t see what he’d done wrong, and there was no point trying to explain it to him.

Alain shifted from foot to foot, not sure what he should do now. The two of them waited in silence for the other to say something. Ayrton was the first to break.

“Did you come here for something in particular?” Ayrton asked.

“I came to make sure you’re alright,” Alain said, quietly.

“Well, I’m fine,” Ayrton snapped. “No thanks to you.”

Alain bit his tongue before he could make some comment about Ayrton being overdramatic, and make the Brazilian worse.

“I’m glad to hear you got things with Viviane and Leonardo worked out,” he said, hoping to change the subject.

Ayrton let himself smile. He knew Alain was trying to get himself off of the hook for bringing Nelson here, but he didn’t mind too much.

“It wasn’t me who convinced them,” he said. This had to mean he was forgiven, didn’t it? Forgiven for losing faith.

“Viviane said you had spoken?” Alain said.

“She came around last night with Leonardo,” Ayrton said.

He smiled, knowingly, trying to decide whether he should tell Alain about the angel or not. Knowing Alain, he would try to come up with some “reasonable” explanation for it. Only Alain could be faced with someone who had come back from the dead and feel the need to find a “reasonable” explanation for something. Ayrton didn’t want to hear any other explanation right now. He didn’t want to be convinced this wasn’t true, like he’d been convinced Bruno’s explanation was.

“What was he like?” Ayrton asked, curiously. Bruno had to have been right. That was what the angel had been talking about, when he’d told Viviane and Leonardo another had given their life.

“Who?” Alain asked, a little confused.

“The other person,” Ayrton frowned, trying to remember his name. He was sure Bruno had mentioned it before… “The one that died?”

“Jules?” Alain asked. Ayrton nodded. Alain sat down on the end of the bed, his eyes closed. What was he supposed to say to that? “He was… he was a good person. A good driver.”

He was more than that and Alain knew it. The word “good” didn’t really do him justice. But how was he supposed to answer?

“Friendly,” he said, eventually. “When Nico was a test driver Formula One, Jules was too. They would sometimes have lunch together. I was never allowed to go. Nico would say I was “cramping his style”. But Jules would always invite me over if I was passing. He was always wanting to talk. To learn.”

Alain always felt strange, thinking of them as the same person. The Jules he’d had lunch with and had told endless stories to whilst Nico sat there with his fingers in his ears wasn’t the same Jules who had died. Alain couldn’t think of him like that. The Jules he knew was living his life somewhere, out of the limelight, in peace and happy. It felt strange to think that Alain would never see him again, that he wouldn’t crop up in another series after he’d finished relaxing away from the wheel. Thinking about the truth made him feel a little sick.

“Would’ve been at Ferrari someday,” he said, quietly, looking down at his hands. “Could’ve been a world champion…”

Alain’s voice trailed off and he was left staring at his hands, no idea how to continue. The two of them sat in silence for a couple of moments, Ayrton’s voice stuck in his throat. Alain felt the bed dip beside him and then there was an arm over his shoulder. Feeling a little awkward, Ayrton patted the Frenchman on the back, not entirely sure how he was supposed to comfort him.

“I’m sorry.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be another,” Alain whispered.

He knew there was no way motorsports was going to be 100% safe. Half the sport would disappear if that was the case. But there wasn’t supposed to be another death. They’d focused on safety, changed the procedures. The fact all that had failed to stop this happening meant it could happen again. And that scared him more than anything.

“I’m sure he’s ok now,” Ayrton said, thinking back to the dream from that morning.


	21. Place of hope and no pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Avenge Sevenfold - Afterlife
> 
> This chapter has Jules in.

The little boy shuddered and huddled closer to Ayrton, hiding against the heavy rain under Ayrton’s coat. The boat rocked violently and Ayrton watched the boy closely to make sure he wasn’t going to be sick, but Jules just looked scared. Terrified.

“It will be ok,” Ayrton said, rubbing Jules’ arm to try and warm him up a little. “I bet we are nearly to wherever we are going. Then we’ll find somewhere warm and dry to sit, yes?”

“My head hurts,” Jules said between sobs, screwing his eyes shut.

“Does it?” Ayrton asked, cocking his head to look down at the boy. “When we get to where we are going, I think I know someone who will be able to fix that. He will make it so you will never hurt again. Won’t that be good?”

Jules nodded, weakly, but it didn’t look as if that settled him at all, his bottom lip wobbling threateningly.

“Where does it hurt?” Ayrton asked, gently, though there wasn’t really anything he could do to make the pain go away now.

“Everywhere,” Jules sobbed, wriggling a little closer to Ayrton as if that might make it better. Tears and rain already dripped down the little boy’s face and Ayrton wiping his tears didn’t help at all. “I don’t like it. Don’t like this. Want to go home. I want Mama and Papa. They will make it better.”

“When we get to where we are going-.”

“Don’t _want_ to go where we are going,” Jules cried, rubbing his eyes until they stung. “I want to go home, Ayrton.”

“I know,” Ayrton said, gently. What could he say? He knew what was going on now. There was no way Jules could go home. Not anymore. “I know it is scary, but it is good, where we are going. I promise.”

Jules just shook his head, unconvinced. Ayrton sighed and looked around, wishing this stupid storm would stop. He had almost convinced Jules that everything was going to be ok until the storm had started.

The boat rocked violently again and Ayrton’s stomach lurched. He took a deep breath. He needed to be calm if he wanted to calm the little boy down.

“We will be there soon, I’m sure,” Ayrton said, trying to come up with a new way to tell him the same thing. “Everything will be good when we get there.”

Jules nodded again and pulled away from Ayrton a little. He took a shuddery breath, rubbing his eyes again.

“Are you alright?” Ayrton asked.

Jules nodded. “Mama and Papa would want me to be brave,” he said. He took another deep breath and took his hands away from his face. “They wouldn’t want me to cry.”

“It’s ok to be scared,” Ayrton said, gently, hugging Jules a little closer. “It is very frightening. I think your parents would understand you being scared. When we get to where we are going we will get to see them. Maybe we will see if we can tell them that you are ok.”

He watched Jules begin to nod again, before he started to understand what Ayrton had said, and what that meant.

“Will they be there?” Jules asked, looking up at Ayrton with wide eyes.

Ayrton bit his lip. He knew he couldn’t lie to him, but he knew telling the truth would only send him back into hysterics.

Jules’ bottom lip wobbled as he waited for an answer he already knew.

“You will be able to see them,” Ayrton said.

He went to wipe Jules’ tears with his thumb, but the child pulled away from him quickly just as the boat started to rock again. He lost his balance, toppling away from Ayrton and over the edge of the boat, into the violent water.

“Jules!”

There was no sign of the child in the water. The sound of crashing waves seemed to be louder than they had been a moment ago, drowning out any cry for help. Ayrton looked around for something to stop the boat, knowing he couldn’t go into the water, but there was nothing.

“Jules!”

It was no use. The child was gone.

 

“He’s gone,” Ayrton choked, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel another sob threatening to break his voice and tried to stifle it because he knew his sister could barely understand him, but it was no use. “I couldn’t find him.”

“Calm down, Beco,” Viviane said, gently, her voice soothing even if she was a million miles away. She’d known she’d left him too early, but she needed to share the news with the family back home, and that couldn’t wait. “It’s just a dream.”

“But it is not just a dream,” Ayrton said. He didn’t know how to explain it. It was something between a dream and a memory, not quiet of this world but not false either. “I know it’s not.”

“Well, is there anything you can do about it?” Viviane asked.

Ayrton shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could think of anyway. “No.”

“Then do not worry about it,” Viviane said, but she knew that was easier said than done. She knew what Ayrton thought the dream was about. Her brother didn’t have to spell it out to make it obvious. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but knew now they couldn’t rule anything out, and the dream being some kind of memory of before he woke up was as much of as possibility as it just being a figment of his imagination. “I will pray for him, if that helps,” she suggested.

“I don’t know how old it is,” Ayrton said, quietly. What if it was too late? What if these visions were trickling in from months ago and it was too late to do anything about them now? He didn’t even know how time worked in this other world. Would it even matter?

“It cannot do any harm, can it?” Viviane said, optimistically.

“I guess not,” Ayrton mumbled.

“Have faith,” Viviane said. She wished she’d stayed in England with her brother. Leonardo could have gone back and spread the word to those that needed to know. As much as Ayrton loved his younger brother, Viviane knew she was the one he needed there. He wouldn’t have been phoning her if that wasn’t the case.

“It’s just so hard.”

“I know,” Viviane said gently. “But you can do it, Ayrton. I know you.”

Ayrton didn’t reply. He wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” Viviane asked, changing the subject. It had been a few days since they’d sat in the hotel room whilst Ayrton and Nico went through the plan. There was still a lot Ayrton had to decide on, though.

Ayrton shook his head again. “No. Alain is still trying to decide for me.”

Trying to explain to him why he wanted to decide was absolutely useless. Nicolas seemed to understand, but even he was coming up with more suggestions and advice than Ayrton thought necessary.

“He is just trying to help, Ayrton,” Viviane said. “I will have a word with him, but you should listen to him. He knows how these things work.”

“None of us know how these things work, Viviane,” Ayrton reminded her.

“I know,” Viviane said. “But this isn’t 1994 anymore. The way people do things have changed.”

Ayrton rolled his eyes. That was an understatement. Nicolas kept going on about all the things he needed to teach him, jargon that went way over Ayrton’s head most of the time. He wanted to make this decision himself but the more and more Nicolas and Alain spoke, the more he felt like he was going to be making a decision on something he knew nothing about, and there was nobody to explain any of this to him who wasn’t going to try and force him to do something.

“Maybe speak to Bruno,” Viviane suggested when Ayrton didn’t reply. “He knows more about all these things than I do. See what he thinks?”

“He’s a child, Viviane,” Ayrton said. Turning to Bruno for advice still made Ayrton uncomfortable. He was the one who was supposed to be giving Bruno advice, not the other way around.

“Not anymore,” Viviane said, trying to keep her smile out of her voice in case her brother thought she was mocking him. “I know it must be strange…”

“You’ve no idea,” Ayrton said, quietly. He thought it might get easier the longer he was here. Maybe he just needed more time but things kept getting stranger and stranger. There were more questions than answers and more things he had to understand than he thought was possible.

“I know,” Viviane said. “I will be back there soon. Talk to Bruno. Listen to Alain. Think about everything and when I get there we can make a decision, yes?”

“Ok.”

“No need to sound so happy about it, Ayrton,” Viviane laughed. “Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Ayrton said. He was still worried about Jules, but he knew there was nothing Viviane could do about that as much as there was nothing _he_ could do about it, but she’d managed to calm him down a little.

“I’ll phone after I’ve spoken to everyone, ok?” Viviane said.

Ayrton’s heart suddenly caught in his throat. How was Viviane supposed to convince their family alone? After every hurdle jumped there seemed to be another disaster.

“Ok,” he croaked.

“I will see you soon,” Viviane promised. “Bye.”

 

“Bye.”

Ayrton let the phone fall out of his hand when the dead tone rung in his ear.

 

“I am just saying that putting it on Twitter is the least suspicious way of doing this,” Nico insisted again.

“And I am just saying that that is absolutely stupid,” Alain said.

Bruno hid his grin behind his hand. He had no idea how anybody on the e.dams team got any work done with the pair of them arguing all the time. He didn’t think he’d be able to focus.

“No,” Nico said. He was pretty sure his father was just annoyed Ayrton had gone with his explanation for his mother. “No, Bruno, what do you think?”

Bruno was saved from answering by the arrival of their food. They’d decided to have dinner away from the hotel’s restaurant, exploring what the East Midlands had on offer that Bruno would be willing to eat.

“Nico, this isn’t some game,” Alain said.

Nico rolled his eyes, almost putting his elbow in his food to lean across the table. “I am aware of this. But no, think about it. Bruno? All we need to do is a tweet from Bruno saying his cousin has come to support him at testing.”

Bruno ducked his head lower when Nico turned to him, picking his way through his meal.

“No, Nico,” Alain said.

“Then what would you do?” Nico asked, waving his fork at Alain. “A press conference? A press release? That sounds too formal. It would look weird. Wouldn’t you think it was weird, Bruno?”

“I guess,” Bruno said. “It’s not down to you two though, is it? What does Uncle Ayrton think?”

“Your Uncle Ayrton doesn’t even know what Twitter is,” Alain pointed out.

“I’ve explained it to him,” Nico said, turning his attention to his food. “Don’t worry about that.”

Bruno just shrugged, not really wanting to take anybody’s side. “It’s not my decision.”

“And who do you think Ayrton is going to trust?” Nico said, smugly.

It was Alain’s turn to roll his eyes. He’d find a way to convince Ayrton to not screw this up, even if it meant making the announcement himself.


	22. A Love that Exists in the Eyes of a Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Moody Blues' Eyes of a Child

Talking to Nicolas was easy. Ayrton didn’t know how to explain it. He still remembered Nicolas as a child, sulking most of the time and following his father around the paddock like a lost puppy. At first, it had made him feel a little sick. He was a reminder of just how much Ayrton had missed. But that had soon gone away, and now Nicolas was as easy to talk to as anyone.

Which was why Ayrton just didn’t understand why it was so hard to talk to Bruno.

Ayrton found his nephew as Bruno was leaving his hotel room.

“Are you busy?” Ayrton asked, eyeing the folder stuffed with papers under Bruno’s arm.

Bruno’s face lit up as Ayrton found it always did when they spoke and he grinned. “I was just going to take this back to engineering but it can wait,” he said. He knew he had a testing plan to go over before he got back on the track, but he really couldn’t believe he had to think about that right now with everything else that was going on. Getting back into the car was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment, but he knew how important it was for everything to seem normal.

“Can we talk?” Ayrton asked, and the seriousness in his voice made Bruno’s smile fall.

“Sure,” he said, fumbling to get his key back out of his pocket and open the door to his hotel room. He dumped the file back on the table and turned to face Ayrton. “Have you spoken to mum?”

“Yeah she… she still hasn’t spoken to your grandparents,” Ayrton said, quietly. “I was hoping to speak to you about something else.”

“Alright…” Bruno said, not sure what to expect. He couldn’t read his uncle, but he was pretty sure this was a bad thing. _What,_ he didn’t know.

Ayrton sighed, wringing his hands together. He waited for Bruno to sit down, knowing he was stalling for time. Bruno looked up at him, expectantly, still trying to figure out what this was about.

“What do you think I should do?” he asked eventually.

“What?”

Ayrton bit his lip, sitting down opposite Bruno. He still couldn’t stop fidgeting, not sure what he wanted Bruno to say.

“Your mother says I should speak to you,” Ayrton said, carefully. “I don’t know what to do now. So what do you think?”

Bruno’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. The look didn’t really reassure Ayrton. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was speaking to a child. He _knew_ that wasn’t true. He’d sat and listened to Bruno talk for hours, listened to everything he’d gone through since he’d left Bruno’s life. But he still hadn’t seen Bruno grow up, make his own mistakes, learn as a person. And when Bruno looked at him like he had done all those years ago, it was easy for Ayrton to believe that that growing up had never happened.

“You want to know what _I_ think?” Bruno asked.

Ayrton nodded, trying to ignore the feeling. “You know more about this than I do.”

“Alain probably knows more about this kind of thing than I do,” Bruno jumped in, quickly. He was honoured that his uncle had come to him, of course he was, but he didn’t want to be responsible for Ayrton making the wrong decision. He knew how important this was, and he had a habit of doing the wrong thing. He couldn’t make this worse.

“I need to do the right thing for me,” Ayrton said, slowly. “And I need someone who knows what is going on, and someone who is _impartial_ to speak to.”

He knew Bruno understood how important the decision was, but he hoped he knew how important his opinion was.

Bruno just shrugged. Nico made a convincing argument and, if he were honest, he couldn’t think of a better way of introducing Ayrton as his cousin than doing it on Twitter. But it was Alain who normally knew what to do in times like this.

“I guess… Nico was making a lot of sense,” he said, slowly, not wanting to sound committed to any idea.

“If you were me, what would you do?” Ayrton asked.

Bruno thought about the question for a moment before what he was being asked hit him. _What would your uncle do? What would you uncle say? What would your uncle think?_ Maybe it was a test. How well had he answered all those questions?

“I…” Bruno struggled to find somewhere to look, squirming a little under his uncle’s gaze. What if he got this wrong now? Well, then he knew what he’d known all along: that he was no more qualified to answer the endless, stupid questions about Ayrton as Nico or Nick was. He shrugged again. “I’d probably go with Nico,” he admitted eventually.

“The bird thing?” Ayrton asked.

Bruno stared at Ayrton for a moment, trying to work out what his uncle was talking about. Ayrton stared back at him, blankly, waiting for an answer.

“The… bird… thing?” Bruno asked.

“I don’t know,” Ayrton cried, jumping up. “Nicolas tried to explain it. He said something about tweeting.”

“You mean Twitter?” Bruno asked, grinning as he tried not to laugh.

“Yes! That’s it,” Ayrton said. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Bruno said, but he couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. “But the _bird_ thing?”

“Nicolas isn’t very good at explaining things.”

“Clearly,” Bruno said. “I’m sorry. Ok. Yes, Twitter.”

“Right,” Ayrton said, sitting back down. “Would you… would you explain it to me?”  


_“Papa! Papa!”_

_The little boy had his arms wrapped around Nico’s legs before he’d even closed the door, hugging as tightly as he could. Nico dropped his bag onto the floor and lifted the squealing child into the air before hugging him close, curly hair tickling his chin._

_“I have missed you Papa,” the child said, snuggling his face against Nico’s chest._

_“I have missed you too,_ mon petit prince,” _Nico whispered, pressing kisses to the top of his son’s curls._

_The child hummed contently and closed his eyes. Nico smiled and poked his head into the living room, but it was empty._

_“Delphine?” he called up the stairs._

_There was no answer. Nico frowned, until he realised she would probably be hanging the washing out or something. He would speak to her when she came back inside._

_“Can we get out my car, Papa?” the child asked, wriggling around so he was looking up at Nico. “Can we go up to the top of the really big hill?”_

_Nico bit his lip and watched the grin on his son’s face turn to disappointment. He took the child into the kitchen and sat him up on the counter top._

_“Are you going away again?” he asked, sadly._

_Nico nodded. “Just for another couple of days.”_

_“But you only just got back,” the child said, his bottom lip and voice shaking._

_“I know,” Nico said. “But remember, it is very, very important for Papa, isn’t it? And you can always watch on the TV.”_

_“Wanted to go with the pedal car,” he said. “On the really big hill.”_

_Nico pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. “I know you did. But we will do that when I get back next time, alright?”_

_“You said that last time,” the child moaned._

_“I know, I’m sorry,” Nico said. “But I promise this time.”_

_“You promised last time,” the child said, sniffing and rubbing his eyes._

_“I’m sorry,” Nico said, watching as his son pushed himself off of the counter top._

_“You’re never here, Papa,” he cried. “You don’t want to play with me. You never want to play with me or put me to bed or come to my birthday parties. You’re never here. I_ _hate you Papa.”_

 

Nico lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Again. He’d lost count how many times he’d had the dream now. Always when he was away from home as well, when he couldn’t roll over and put his hands around Delphine, feeling the push of the baby’s foot against his hand. Always when he was alone.

It couldn’t be that hard, could it? He knew drivers who had children who got on with their kids just fine. Nick’s kids adored him and Sacha got on well enough with their father, though he’d been too young to remember Alain driving.

It would be fine, Nico tried to convince himself. He’d make time for their child and, if he couldn’t, he’d find another role. The racing world didn’t need him as much as his son would. He knew that more than anyone. He knew what to look out for, and he knew Delphine would tell him if he managed to miss all the warning signs. They’d had long conversations about this, when they first started trying for a baby. Neither one of them was going to let their child end up feeling how he had felt.

But maybe…

Nico found his phone on the bedside table and pressed the home button, forgetting for a moment how blinding the screen would be. He sat up, smiling at the photo of himself and Delphine. It was too early to phone and he knew she’d be in no mood to put up with him at this time in the morning. He’d just have to go back to sleep and phone at a more reasonable time.

With a small sigh, Nico put his phone back on the bedside table and lay back down, hoping the next dream would be a little more pleasant. It wouldn’t be long now until testing was over and he could go home again, feel the baby’s feet pressing against his hands, and make sure he knew how much he was loved.


	23. I know now that I love you 'cause I need your touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of miscarriage in this chapter.  
> Chapter title from Reunited by Peaches and Herb

Nick did not have an over controlling father. Neither did he have a supposedly dead person to help. So Nick had gone home during the break between the last two tests, or wherever it was Nick went when he didn’t have race commitments, and wouldn’t be back until the evening. Which meant Nico had the dining room all to himself, a little too early for breakfast.

He hadn’t been able to get back to sleep after the dream. It just kept playing over and over again in his head. Was it even right to get his son a pedal car? He remembered his, and he really had loved it, but what if that made his son think he needed to be a racing driver before Nico cared about him? That wasn’t true. He didn’t care what his son was as long as he was happy.

God, this parenting thing didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

He took his phone from his pocket again. It wasn’t _that_ early. He needed Delphine. Needed her to tell him that everything was going to be fine, that he wasn’t going to screw this up.

She answered on the third ring.

“A little early for you, isn’t it,” she teased.

“I thought I would get a head start on breakfast,” Nico lied, smiling to the waiting staff that had just arrived to set the table.

“Do you have a busy day?” Delphine asked.

“Just data to go over,” Nico said. “And Sebastien wants to go and have lunch so I should probably do that.”

“He has been complaining about that, you know?” Delphine said.

“To you?”

“Don’t you go upsetting your teammate, Nico,” Delphine warned, only half joking. “You know what happened when you upset Nick.”

“I won’t upset Sebastien,” Nico promised, unable to stop himself from smiling. He couldn’t wait for this baby to be born, not just because he’d finally be able to stop this endless worry, but because Delphine and the baby could go with him on short little trips like this.

“Good,” Delphine said. “Is there a reason you phoned?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Nico said. There was no point telling her about the dream now…

“Awww,” Delphine cooed. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re next telling me to shut up.”

“I never tell you to shut up,” Nico argued.

“Of course,” Delphine said. She sighed. "When are you coming home Nico? I miss you."

"I miss you too,” Nico said, quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Baby misses you as well."

"Baby doesn't know I exist,” Nico said, grinning. They really needed to start looking at baby names.

"Does,” Delphine said. “He wriggles when he hears your voice."

"Really?" This was news to him.

"Yeah."

"Put the phone to your stomach and let me talk to him then," Nico said, a little more excited than he should have been.

"Nico, I'm not doing that."

"Let me talk to him!" Nico said, _far_ more excited than he should have been.

"Ok. Fine..."

Nico waited a few moments, trying to think of something to say. He’d sat with Delphine before, pressed kisses to her swollen belly and whispered secrets to the baby, but he’d never really thought about what he’d said before, and now his mind had gone blank.

"Hello little one,” he said, his voice dropping quieter again. “Sorry I have been away for such a long time. Your grandpa Alain is a meanie who does not understand what no means. But I bet he will forget all about the word no when it is you asking for things. He will spoil you rotten. There are lots of people here who I think will spoil you rotten.”

Movement out of the corner of Nico’s eye made him look up and he spotted Ayrton hovering in the doorway.

“I should probably get going now, but I will be home really, really soon,” he promised. “Don't keep mama up with all your kicking too much, ok? I cannot wait to meet you.”

“Are you finished?” Delphine asked.

“Yeah, I need to go,” Nico said, smiling to welcome Ayrton over to the table. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Good,” Delphine said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Delphine hung up the phone first. They’d long grown out of the “no you hang up first” phase, but Nico still wouldn’t hang up the phone when Delphine was still on the other end.

“You have a child?” Ayrton asked, sitting opposite Nico.

Nico froze, his heart suddenly in his throat. “No…” he said, slowly. Technically that was still true.

“I am dead, Nicolas, not deaf,” Ayrton said. “Grandpa Alain?”

Nico stared at Ayrton, trying to think of something to say, but there was no denying it if he’d heard the conversation. There was no lie that would be convincing and then Ayrton would just go and ask Alain or Bruno and Nico could _not_ let that happen.

“My wife is pregnant,” he admitted. “About six months.”

Ayrton beamed. “Congratulations.”

“But you cannot tell _anyone_ ,” Nico said, quickly. “Not even dad.”

“He doesn’t know?” Ayrton asked.

“Nobody knows,” Nico stressed.

“Why not?” Ayrton asked, confused. Six months? That seemed later enough to start spreading the news.

Nico sighed, picking at the napkin that had been placed on the table. “This isn’t the first time she has been pregnant.”

Time and time again they tried and time and time again they were left heart broken. Nico wasn’t sure if miscarriage after miscarriage just meant it wasn’t supposed to be for them, but they’d both wanted to try again. And again. But he couldn’t force another heartbreak onto his family. He and Delphine had both agreed to wait until the baby was born before they told anybody this time.

“Oh Nicolas… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Nico said, weakly. “But we do not want to jinx it this time.”

“Of course,” Ayrton said. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“Thank you,” Nico said, reflecting Ayrton’s small smile.

“I was speaking to Bruno yesterday,” Ayrton said, getting onto what he had really wanted to talk to Nico about. “He explained to me the tweeting thing.”

“Twitter?” Nico asked. “I already explained Twitter to you.”

He’d gone to great lengths just to make sure Ayrton understood what he was talking about when Nico had been trying to convince him. He couldn’t imagine how confusing something like Twitter must have been – he knew how confusing it had been for his father when he’d first started using Twitter – but when he’d left Ayrton had seemed to understand what he’d been talking about.

“Yes,” Ayrton said, slowly. “Bruno explained it again. And… and I think it would be a good idea.”

“Really?” Nico said, his face lighting up.

Ayrton shrugged. “It seems like the best idea, anyway.”

It was the _only_ idea, just like claiming he was his own child was the _only_ idea. He wasn’t a hundred per cent convinced that this was the right thing to do – Bruno hadn’t been entirely enthusiastic about it – but they needed to make a decision soon, and this didn’t seem to be _bad_.

“That’s great,” Nico said.

“But we will have to wait until Viviane has spoken to my parents,” Ayrton said.

“Sure,” Nico said. “I mean, you can do it as soon as you want to.”

“Now,” Ayrton said, leaning forward. “Are you going to tell your father, or am I?”

 

“You’re just doing this to annoy me.”

Ayrton rolled his eyes. “Yes, Alain. I have made a decision that may affect the rest of my life, just to annoy you.”

Alain shook his head, pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning against. He couldn’t really believe this was happening. He’d always been a little worried about how alike Ayrton Nico could be sometimes, but that was usually when he was in the car, driving as if he’d forgotten about the existence of death. He’d never really seen the similarities in their personalities. Now, it was blindingly obvious. And now, together, was worse than either of them separately.

“You can’t do this, Ayrton,” he said, eventually. He would have to see sense. He would just _have_ to.

“Well you have not come up with anything else, have you?” Nico pointed out.

“You’re not doing anything until Viviane has spoken to your parents,” Alain said. “So I can come up with something.”

“But you won’t,” Nico said. “ _You_ are just being stubborn to annoy _me_.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Alain said. Talking to Nico was useless. He turned to Ayrton. “Who do you trust? You don’t even know what Twitter is.”

“Nicolas and Bruno have explained it to me,” Ayrton said. He was pretty sure he understood what it was about. Sort of…

“Ayrton, trust me,” Alain said.

“What was that about not taking over?” Nico cut in, quickly. If he were honest, it was a little out of spite – wanting to prove that he could think for himself and do the right thing. And he didn’t want Alain convincing Ayrton otherwise.

“Fine,” Alain snapped, holding up his hands. “You do whatever you would like to do Ayrton.”

It was hopeless. There wasn’t going to be any convincing either of them, not without them screwing up and realising he was right all along.

Alain knew he couldn’t really let that happen though. He was just going to have to make sure Ayrton did the right thing, even if it meant doing it himself.


	24. Tell the Devil I said Hey when you get back to where you're from

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Bruno Mars' Grenade

“Bruno, put it away,” Nico warned.

Bruno didn’t react, staring at the paper. Nico knew he shouldn’t have shown him it, but it was too late to take it back now.

“ _Bruno_.”

“But…” Bruno tried to find the right words but his brain wasn’t working properly. No matter how many times he read the words in front of him, they didn’t change.

“Put it away before he sees it,” Nico hissed, trying to snatch the newspaper from over the breakfast table, but Bruno pulled it away. Maybe if he read it one more time, he’d understand…

No, it didn’t make any sense. Not _what_ it said. He understood exactly what it said. But _why_ …

“Ayrton is going to go mad when he sees it,” Nico said.

“When I see what?”

Nico and Bruno both jumped, Bruno frantically trying to hide the newspaper and sending the soggy breakfast cereal he had been eating flying. Ayrton smirked, taking the newspaper away from his nephew before either of them could answer. The smirk didn’t last much longer.

 

_In 1994, three time Formula One world champion Ayrton Senna died, leaving no heir to his legacy. Or so we thought. Now it has been revealed that Senna had a child: a little boy named – you guessed it – Ayrton._

_The news comes from Senna’s once rival, Nelson Piquet._

_“I had lunch with him and Alain Prost the other day,” Piquet says. “Ironic, really. Or maybe it was iconic.”_

_Piquet says the son, now in his mid-thirties, looks remarkably like his father and has a similar personality._

_Secrecy over the child was called for by the mother, who wanted to keep her son out of the limelight. According Senna Jnr, his father and the rest of the Senna family agreed to respect the mother’s wishes, the child only coming out of hiding after his mother passed away._

_Piquet speculates otherwise._

_“I knew Ayrton,” he says. “He wouldn’t have kept something like that a secret. I don’t believe the story. Ayrton wouldn’t have kept this a secret unless he didn’t want people to know. And you’ve got to ask why.”_

“It’s probably not that bad,” Nico said, though it was clear he didn’t believe that in the slightest. “I mean, nobody actually reads newspapers these days anyway.”

“Bruno, can you go and phone your mother please?” Ayrton asked quietly.

He should have known something like this was going to happen. As soon as he’d seen Piquet he’d known there was going to be bad news coming but he’d never thought something like _this_ – how could he have been so stupid?

“Do you want me to get Uncle Leonardo?” Bruno asked.

“Just go and phone your mother,” Ayrton said. He needed Viviane. She would know what to do, how to handle this…

Bruno looked between Ayrton and Nico, then nodded, standing.

“I’ll go and call her now,” he said. “Then get Uncle Leonardo.”

He tried to smile as he left but it didn’t quite work. Ayrton slid into the chair Bruno had vacated, staring at the paper. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to work out what he’d done to deserve all this.

“You and dad had lunch with Nelson?” Nico asked, quietly.

Ayrton nodded, dropping the paper and closing his eyes. “Your father brought him here a couple of days ago.”

Nico sighed. That sounded like something his father would do. Nelson had been there for him a lot over the past few years. It was only a matter of time before he called Nelson about this.

“Look,” he said, eventually. “I know what you’re going to say but…”

“You think we should tell your father,” Ayrton finished, opening his eyes and looking up at Nico.

Nico gave a weak smile and nodded. “He needs to know, Ayrton.”

He wanted to pretend he could solve all this by himself, but he knew he couldn’t, and he wasn’t too proud to admit it. And besides, this was Alain’s mess if he was the one who had brought Nelson here. He needed to clean it up.

Ayrton nodded. “You’re right.”

Nico blinked, surprised. He hadn’t been expecting Ayrton to agree with him.

“I’ll go and get him now.”  


Alain woke to the knocking on his room door. For a moment he had no idea what was going on, then a smile spread across his face. It had worked then.

Trying to wipe the smile from his face, he opened the door.

“Nelson,” Nico said.

“What has happened now?” Alain said, feigning ignorance.

“Nelson went to the press,” Nico said. He hadn’t brought the paper with him, unable to take it from Ayrton. It wouldn’t matter. He was sure it would be all over the internet by now. He hadn’t checked yet, not wanting to find out what else Nelson had said…

“What about?” Alain asked.

“What about?” Nico said. “What do you- You know.”

“Know what?” Alain said, but he couldn’t get the smile to stay off of his face for long enough.

He’d had to do something. Ayrton was making a huge mistake and Alain needed to teach him to _listen_ to him in future. This wasn’t the way Alain had wanted it to come out, of course it wasn’t, but it would work out for the best in the end.

“What have you done?” Nico hissed, pushing past his father into the hotel room. He took out his phone, ignoring the roll of the eyes his father gave him as he tried to find an article. “Dad, what on earth have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything,” Alain said, but it was clear Nico knew better than that.

“Read it,” Nico said, shoving the phone into Alain’s face. “Look what it says.”

Alain shrugged, stepping back so he could read the text. “This is Nelson’s style, I’m afraid.”

“You told him to do this,” Nico accused, taking the phone away. Of course he had. He should have expected something like this. “You did this just to spite us.”

“Yes, Nico. I have made a decision that may affect the rest of Ayrton’s life, just to spite you,” Alain mimicked.

Nico glared at him, trying to work out what to say now. He didn’t believe it. He knew his father was a control freak, but to do something like this…

“What do we do now?” he asked, giving in.

Alain couldn’t stop his smile at that.


	25. You're going to catch a cold from the ice inside your soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Christina Perri's Jar of Hearts

“Ayrton, calm down,” Viviane said, gently.

Ayrton shook his head. How was he supposed to calm down? He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and calm down but it wasn’t working. He was alone in the dining room now, Bruno off to go and get his uncle.

“Have you spoken to them yet?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“You need to speak to them,” Ayrton said. “Before they see this.”

He couldn’t even imagine what their reaction would be if his parents saw this. What if Piquet had gone to his parents? Piquet was going to ruin everything and why hadn’t he seen this coming?

“It will be ok,” Viviane tried to tell them. “Look, I’m going to see them for lunch-.”

“You need to speak to them _now,_ ” Ayrton insisted.

“It’s the middle of the night, Ayrton,” Viviane said.

“Ayrton?” Alain marched into the dining room, Nico following close behind him. “Is that Viviane?”

“I am busy, Alain,” Ayrton snapped. He didn’t want to hear Alain’s snide comments now. He didn’t want to know about how the Frenchman could have organised this all better or how one of Alain’s ideas would have been far more appropriate. He just wanted to sort this out before Piquet could ruin anything else.

“Give me the phone,” Alain said, handing out his hand for the phone.

“Piss off.”

“Beco,” Viviane said gently. It was enough to push out the tears that had begun to well in Ayrton’s eyes.

“Ayrton,” Alain said, sternly.

Ayrton glared at him, but put the phone in Alain’s outstretched hand, turning away from him and trying to calm down.

“Viviane,” Alain said, knowing he was talking to someone who would listen to sense now. “You haven’t spoken to your parents yet?”

Nico sat down beside Ayrton, putting his arm over the Brazilian’s shoulders but Ayrton just shrugged him away. Nico wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw his father roll his eyes out of the corner of his eyes.

“Well, there’s been a change in plan,” Alain said. “You’re going to have to tell them that what Piquet said is true.”

“What?” Ayrton jumped up. “No. No, they are being told the truth.”

“Do you really think we are going to have time to tell them the truth,” Alain snapped back. “It is a miracle Viviane and Leonardo believe you. Do you think your parents will believe you without even seeing you?”

They didn’t have enough time anymore. Alain wouldn’t have been surprised if Ayrton’s parents had already been approached by the media. He didn’t know when exactly Nelson had spoken to the press, or _who_ he had spoken to, but word travelled fast these days.

“They need to know the truth, Alain,” Ayrton said, trying to hide the wobble in his voice. This wasn’t _fair_. None of this was fair and he didn’t know what he’d done to-

Jules.

This was his punishment, wasn’t it?

This was his punishment for letting Jules fall overboard and not getting him safely to where he’d promised he’d take him.

“Viviane, are you still there?” Alain asked, turning away from Ayrton. “Ok, you tell your parents that you and Leonardo knew about the child, but Ayrton didn’t want to tell them. Tell them he thought… tell them he thought they would be ashamed of him or something.”

“Alain?” Ayrton couldn’t let this happen. Alain was making him out to be some kind of dirty little secret and that wasn’t what this was supposed to be.

“A child out of marriage?” Alain suggested. “Maybe the mother was someone who he thought your parents wouldn’t approve of.”

“You can’t do this, Alain,” Ayrton croaked. “Please.”

“I am sorting this out. You should be grateful.”  


Ayrton hadn’t spoken for a while, and Bruno had given up trying to start a conversation. He just sat beside his uncle whilst Ayrton stared at the wall, no idea what he was supposed to say now.

He was going to have to get going soon. There was testing to be done. Bruno wasn’t sure if the whole “keeping everything normal” still applied after Nelson Piquet had pointed out how very much not normal everything was, but he knew he couldn’t just miss testing. People were relying on him, and hiding away was only going to make things worse.

Ayrton knew this was all his fault. He shouldn’t have left Jules. Who knew what had happened to him when he’d been swept away? Who knew where he was now? What had the poor boy done to deserve anything that had happened to him? He’d already been through so much and Ayrton had somehow found a way to make that worse. Jules didn’t deserve any of that, and putting him through it meant Ayrton deserved the punishment.

But he…

He couldn’t just roll over and take it. His own parents were going to hate him.

“I’m going to have to go soon,” Bruno said, quietly.

They’d wanted to have Leonardo come here. Maybe he would be able to get something out of Ayrton, or know what he was thinking. But there was no way Leonardo was going to be able to get back into the hotel without having to speak to the press that seemed to pounce on Bruno as soon as he stepped out of the hotel. It was no use.

“Testing,” Ayrton said, quietly.

Bruno nodded. “It’s only today and tomorrow,” he said. “Then that’s it.”

He smiled, hoping it would encourage Ayrton to do the same, but it was no use. Ayrton just looked blankly back at him.

“I can stay for a little longer,” Bruno said. Someone would come and fetch him when he absolutely needed to go, he was sure of it.

“You won’t get a moment of peace there,” Ayrton muttered. “They’re all going to be asking questions about me.”

“Yeah, well,” Bruno shrugged. “They’re always asking questions about you anyway. At least this time they’ll be different questions.”

 

“Did you know about this?” Sebastien asked when Nico walked into the garage. He’d come in the car alone, not wanting to share the same room as his father, let alone a car. He couldn’t believe Alain had done this. And done it just to spite him too. And _he_ was the one everyone said was childish.

“About what?” Nico asked, as if he needed to.

“Ayrton Senna’s child,” Sebastien hissed, as if it was a secret. He showed Nico the article he’d found on his phone but Nico barely glanced at it before nodding.

“Heard about it the other week,” Nico said.

“And you didn’t tell me!” Sebastien cried.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” Nico said with a sigh. “And I have more important things to think about, Sebastien. Are we testing today or not?”

Both of them looked up when Alain came into the garage. The older Frenchman sighed when Nico turned his back on him, doing his best to ignore him. He’d promised his father he wouldn’t tell Ayrton this was all his fault. That didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

“Are you still sulking over the party?” Sebastien asked. They hadn’t spoken about the party at lunch the day before, Nico changing the subject whenever Sebastien tried to bring it up.

“Nico,” Alain tried.

“Testing,” Nico said, sternly. He couldn’t explain to Sebastien what was going on. His teammate could think whatever he wanted, Nico didn’t really care.

Nico’s engineer looked between the two generations of Prost, not wanting to get in the middle of another family argument. Thankfully, Alain turned away. He’d let Nico calm down and talk to him later.

 

Nick didn’t say anything when Bruno came into the garage. He’d had to battle his way to get in here, laughing at any questions and promising an explanation later whilst their press officer ushered him in, trying to explain something about a birthday present to him. Talking about anything but Ayrton.

Bruno wondered briefly if they’d all been told not to say anything, before he realised that they were going to have to bring him up at some point. Ayrton had been right. It was going to be all the press were going to want to talk about.

“Apparently there’s cake,” Nick said.

“What?”

“The fan,” Nick said, nodding to the press officer who had just left. “Apparently they brought cake.”

“Oh,” Bruno said, not wanting to admit he hadn’t been listening.

Nick sighed, sitting down beside his teammate.

“Guessing this wasn’t the plan then,” he said. He’d learnt when he first started racing with Bruno that asking how he was was pointless. And it was pretty obvious now how Bruno was. Nick had never seen him so unfocused.

“You know then?” Bruno said.

“Are you surprised?” Nick laughed.

Bruno smiled weakly. He guessed that was a stupid question

“No, it wasn’t the plan,” Bruno admitted. It couldn’t really have happened at a much worse time, either. The fact that it had happened at all was bad enough, but Nelson could have waited a few more days until Bruno had finished testing and wouldn’t have to put up with all the questions.

“So,” Nick asked. “What’s the plan now?”


	26. Idiot wind, blowing every time you open your mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title from Bob Dylan's Idiot Wind

Bruno had very almost forgotten about his disaster of a morning by the time the mid-day pit walk began. He hadn’t felt his stomach lurch so much before he’d even spoken to anybody as it did today. He’d managed to get away from the press all morning, doing more laps than they had planned to do and ducking away from the press officer whenever he spotted her. But there was no getting out of this. And Ayrton was right. All he was going to get was questions about his new cousin.

The first ten minutes, surprisingly, didn’t go too badly. He put on the smile he always had to wear and greeted the fans. There didn’t seem to be any more than there usually was, but maybe the news had broken too late for more people to take the trip to the track.

He was just saying goodbye to one of the fans when the first question came.

“So, you have a cousin?”

The man looked rather pleased with himself, and Bruno wouldn’t have been surprised if he was handed a DVD or something of Ayrton’s to sign.

“Yeah,” Bruno said, trying to smile as he was handed the man’s ticket to sign. “Yeah I do.”

“Must have been a shock to find out,” the man said.

Bruno frowned. “I have known him all my life. So… not really.”

He bit his tongue, knowing he couldn’t snap.

“Ah, yeah,” the man said, though the smile on his face didn’t match the tone of his voice. He took his ticket back and nodded to him. “Thanks.”

“Have a nice day,” Bruno said, trying not to sound as if he would like to run the retreating fan over.

It wasn’t long until the questions were pretty much continuous. Bruno was sure the session was longer than it had been on previous days, or maybe it just felt like it. Question after question about Ayrton and, yes, these were different to the usual questions, but even harder to answer. Bruno tried to remember the details Alain had given him before they left the hotel, but he was sure he changed the story at least three times through the session.

Things were beginning to die down a little when Nick came over to ask if he wanted to go, but Bruno shook his head. They needed to pretend that everything was normal.

“I guess you’ve had about a million questions about your cousin today, haven’t you?” said a woman, offering a photograph for Bruno to sign.

“Just about,” Bruno laughed.

“Did you know about this meal of theirs then?” the woman asked, and Bruno could feel her eyes drilling into him as he signed her stupid photograph.

“Nah, Ayrton does things without me knowing about them sometimes,” Bruno said, smiling politely as he handed her back the photograph.

“Do you think it’s weird, calling him Ayrton?” the woman asked.

Bruno resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Most people only asked one question and then left with their souvenir post card or whatever they’d brought.

“Well, I have been calling him Ayrton all my life, so not really,” Bruno said.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she said. “Don’t suppose you know why he was kept a secret, do you?”

“Well, it was just what his mum wanted, wasn’t it,” Bruno said. What did he have to do to make her leave?

“So there’s no truth in what Nelson Piquet’s saying?” the woman pressed.

Bruno tried to laugh but he knew it came out as cardboard as he wanted it to. “Probably not, no.”

“What about this about your cousin being inbred?”

“Well, Nelson- what?”

 

“You have got to be kidding me.”

_“It’s just one theory,” Piquet explains. “But I think it’s the one that makes the most sense. Why else would the family try to keep it a secret? They were a very close family, and I know Ayrton was particularly close to his sister. I’m not saying it did happen, I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”_

This had gone too far. Alain was hoping Nico hadn’t seen the article as he slipped out of the e.dams garage. He had just wanted the news to be out in the open. He didn’t need Nelson Piquet making up more stories about Ayrton. That was just going to annoy Nico and Ayrton even more.

“Nelson,” Alain barked into the phone as soon as Nelson answered it.

“Having a good day, Alain?” Nelson asked, and Alain could imagine the smug smile on his face. “I wish I could have been there but I have a meeting with another journalist.”

“No,” Alain said, sternly. This had gone far enough. He didn’t want to know what else Nelson had planned, but it was not happening. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the hotel,” Nelson said.

“Stay there,” Alain said. He really shouldn’t have been leaving now. There was only a day and a half left of testing before the cars were packed up and shipped off to China and he needed to be here to oversee everything. But they would have to do without him for a couple of hours. Nelson wasn’t going to listen to him over the phone but maybe he would see sense if they were face to face.

“I have a meeting, Alain,” Nelson reminded him.

“It can wait,” Alain said, sternly. “I will be there soon.”

 

Nelson was waiting for Alain in the hotel lobby when he arrived.

“Alain, can’t this wait?” Nelson asked. He was grinning and Alain couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was up to this time, but it probably wasn’t good.

He should have gone to somebody else. There was nobody who would have been able to launch the news out into the open like Nelson had been able to, but it would have solved a lot of problems if he’d just asked Sebastien or someone else…

“No, it can’t wait,” Alain said, taking hold of Nelson’s wrist and steering him over to the lift. “We need to talk.”

“What about this time?” Nelson said, pulling his wrist away. “They haven’t changed their mind about the news being in the open have they?”

“No,” Alain said. He’d told Nelson the night before that the Sennas had said he could do whatever he wanted with the information. He hadn’t really thought Nelson would do something like _this_ though. Maybe he hadn’t really thought at all… “Incest, Nelson?”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Nelson said. The smile on his face said he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. It just made Alain angrier.

"Why would you say something like that?" Alain snapped.

"Well it makes sense to me,” Nelson said with a shrug. The lift doors opened and he led Alain down the corridor to his own room.

"How did that even cross your mind?" Alain asked, trying to understand what was going on inside his friend’s head.

"Back in the 80s, I wrote a list, ok?” Nelson said. “Fucker died before I could get this far, though, didn't he?"

"Nelson!” Alain cried. He couldn’t believe this. So neither of them had really liked Ayrton when he’d been alive, but Alain had come to regret that after he died. He’d thought Nelson had felt the same way. That had been how they begun to grow so close…

Nelson didn’t seem to care, smiling at the shock on Alain’s face. He crossed the room to the now restocked fridge. He probably shouldn’t be drinking this early in the day, but he’d long since stopped caring about that kind of thing.

“I don’t believe you,” Alain said, shaking his head.

"Well what other explanation is there?" Nelson asked, unscrewing the cap from one of the bottles in the fridge. “Why else would Ayrton keep this a secret?”

"Because the boy’s mother didn't want anybody to know and Ayrton respected her wishes?" Alain suggested.

"Yeah, but that's not very interesting, is it Alain?"

"This isn't some game, Nelson!” Alain cried. Why wasn’t this going into his head? “This is a person's life. He's not some political pawn."

"Oh, Alain. Everyone's a political pawn if you're smart enough,” Nelson teased.

"Yes, and you would know so much about the politics of motorsports with your experience in the current world?"

"Remind me again, which of us have sons that are actually successful?"

Alain took a breath to argue, then stopped to think. It wasn’t worth it. There was no getting through to him and, if he were being honest with himself, this was Alain’s fault for being stupid enough to trust Nelson.

He sighed and shook his head, turning on his heel and living Nelson’s room.

Ayrton had dealt with this kind of thing before. He could do it again.


	27. How do I feel by the end of the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from With a little help from my friends by the Beatles.

“How did they take it?”

“Well, the good news is they believe it,” Viviane said.

Ayrton bit down on his lip, trying to stop himself from crying because he was better than this. At least Viviane had called before Bruno had gotten back. The last thing he wanted to do was all this in front of him. His nephew would have already have been through enough by the time he got back to the hotel…

“Well that’s…” Ayrton coughed, trying to get some strength back into his voice. “That’s good.”

“They’re not very happy with me and Leonardo,” Viviane said. “Or you.”

“No,” Ayrton said, quietly. “I can imagine they’re not.”

“But they’re more disappointed in themselves,” Viviane said. “They don’t understand why you thought they would be ashamed of you. And then the whole thing about Adriane was brought up again.” Viviane sighed. “They have a lot of regrets.”

“This isn’t their fault,” Ayrton croaked. Couldn’t Alain have come up with anything better? Surely he must have had a plan for this kind of thing when he invited Nelson to the lunch, and it couldn’t have been this. Hadn’t Alain thought of something that wouldn’t hurt them?

“I told them that,” Viviane said. “I said it was just you being silly. Just you not wanting to be anything but perfect for them.”

“I don’t want to hurt them, Viviane,” Ayrton said.

“I know, I know,” Viviane said, gently. “They… they want to meet you.”

“They what?”

“They’ve booked a flight to England,” Viviane said. “I tried to stop them but they insisted. They want to meet you.”

“That’s…” It was as if a light bulb switched on above Ayrton’s face and he grinned. “That’s brilliant.”

There was no way Alain Prost was having the final say in this.

 

“Maybe I should talk to Bruno,” Sebastien wondered aloud as they finished up the debrief at the end of the day.

“Why?” Nico asked.

“It’s his _cousin_ , isn’t it?” Sebastien hissed. He really did wonder what was wrong with his team mate sometimes. He knew Nico was a little more immune than he was to the lure of the Senna name, but surely even _he_ had to admit this was strange. _Interesting_. But Nico was acting as if the soil composition at the track was more interesting than this.

“Oh Ayrton,” Nico said.

“Yes, Ayrton,” Sebastien said.

“Leave him, Seb,” Nico said, putting a hand on his teammate’s shoulder before Sebastien could skip off to where Bruno and Nick were just leaving their own debrief.

“Nico,” Sebastien said. “I know you’re not one to gossip-.”

“He’s going to have had questions about this all fucking day,” Nico snapped, making Sebastien jump a little. “Don’t you think he might want a bit of a break?”

Alain thought he was just annoying him by going to Nelson but he wasn’t. This was more than just another way to make Nico feel about two inches tall and if his father had just _thought_ about that before going off to spite him, they might not be in this mess.

 _His_ way would have put Bruno and Ayrton in control. _They_ would have been able to get the first word in, let the press know what they wanted to in their own time, when they’d had time to think everything out and not when Bruno was supposed to be testing.

Maybe this was some tactic between Alain and Nelson: throw off Mahindra’s testing strategy. They could have picked Lucas’ uncle to bring back from the dead if that was the case…

“Maybe you’re right,” Sebastien said, quietly, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I didn’t think…”

“Nobody ever does,” Nico snapped, marching off to where the car was waiting for him.

 

Nick was trying to work out how he’d missed something like this. He’d been going through the last five years or so, ever since he started to get to know Bruno, trying to figure out how he’d missed the secret, but there was nothing.

It wasn’t that he expected Bruno to share his deepest secrets with him. He didn’t blame Bruno at all for that. But Nick considered himself pretty good at reading people and he’d thought he would have noticed if Bruno had had a secret this big, but apparently not.

But he knew one thing for sure: this was why Nico had been acting funny.

He smiled at the line he’d told Sebastien: one of Alain’s old friends. Nico could be clever when he wanted to be.

“What are you going to do now?” Nick asked as they left the briefing. Bruno had been quiet all afternoon, ever since that question about incest, and Nick hoped that wasn’t because Bruno actually thought there was any truth to it. He had to know this was just Nelson stirring things up, didn’t he?

Bruno shrugged. “Go back to the hotel,” he said. “Eat. Sleep. Make sure Ayrton hasn’t killed himself to get out of being asked if his dad was fucking my mum.”

Nick sighed. It was about that then.

“You know that’s not true,” he said, putting his arm over his team mate’s shoulder. “Nelson’s just a twat. You’ve met his son, haven’t you?”

Bruno tried to laugh, but he didn’t have the energy. It felt like every day there was a new problem they had to face and it wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t, just once, everything go the way they wanted it to.

“Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight?” Nick offered. “Bring your cousin along too if you’re worried about him. We’ll drink lots, you’ll eat nothing, and I’ll share incredibly embarrassing stories about Nico.”

“I don’t know,” Bruno said. It did sound like a good offer, but he didn’t know what kind of state Ayrton was going to be in when he got back. He didn’t know if he’d had to speak to the press yet and if he had there was no way he was going to want to sit through a meal with Nick, no matter how well it was meant.

“Well, the offers there if either of you want it,” Nick said with a smile.

 

Ayrton was smiling when he let Bruno into the hotel room. He’d wanted to wait outside Bruno’s room to speak to him when he got back, but there was always a risk he would run into Alain and his plan relied on Prost not finding out about his parents’ visit.

“Are you… alright?” Bruno asked. He hadn’t really expected Ayrton to be quite so cheerful. He hadn’t been this cheerful when Bruno had left him. What had happened?

“Getting better,” Ayrton said, “Your mother phoned.”

“It was good news?” Bruno asked. He knew his grandparents would be understanding.

“They’re on their way over here,” Ayrton said.

“They’re coming _here_?” Bruno asked. “When?”

“They arrive tomorrow,” Ayrton said. He’d been a little shocked about how fast this was all moving too, but it was probably for the best. The sooner he got to see his parents, the sooner he could get this all sorted out and get on with his life.

He would never admit it, but maybe they could make this thing with Piquet work for them.

“Tomorrow?” Bruno said. “Isn’t that a little soon.”

They had so much to prepare before then. His grandparents were going to want to know more than the press. Bruno was pretty sure he’d managed to get away without talking about anything they hadn’t already agreed on, but they weren’t going to be so lucky with his grandparents, he was sure.

“It’s alright,” Ayrton said. “I already know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“I don’t know,” Bruno said, uncertainly. This didn’t really seem like a good idea to him. He didn’t want Ayrton to just get scared and rush in to do something. Make this worse. “Maybe we should ask Alain?”

“No,” Ayrton said, definitely. “Alain cannot find out about this.”

“I think he’s going to want to know,” Bruno pointed out.

“Bruno, promise me you will not tell him about this.” He would try and take control but Ayrton _knew_ what he had to do now.

“Alright,” Bruno said, a little worried about the relieved smile that fell onto his uncle’s face.

“Good, thank you,” Ayrton said, squeezing Bruno’s shoulder. “So… how was today?”

“Awful,” Bruno said before he could stop himself. “I mean…” He sighed. It was no use. “It was awful. I couldn’t focus in the car and then the entire time I was out of it…”

_So there isn’t any truth in Mr Piquet’s comments?_

_Do you know who your cousin’s mother was?_

_Did you speak to your cousin after your uncle died?_

“I’m sorry,” Ayrton said, quietly.

“It’s not your fault,” Bruno said. It was always going to go like this, no matter how they broke the news. He should have been more prepared. At least with the usual questions he knew the answers…

Ayrton shook his head. He’d like to know how Bruno could find someone else to blame for all of this.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bruno said, eventually. “My teammate has invited us both to dinner. Would you like to go?”


	28. Will it take me to the end? Well I don't know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Alistair Griffin's Just Drive 
> 
> Second part of the chapter is the continuation of the dream

“I was hoping I could meet you,” Nick said, smiling as the waitress left with their orders.

Ayrton managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Just.

He’d been expecting all sorts of questions from Bruno’s team mate. He’d been the lucky one, not having to go through all the questions Bruno had all day. But now the luck was out.

Nick had seemed nice enough so far, but it was only so long before it began.

“You have to tell me all the embarrassing stories from Bruno’s childhood,” Nick said, deadly serious.

Ayrton huffed a laugh and relaxed a little. Maybe Nick really was alright…

“I’ll tell you more when he isn’t here,” Ayrton said. “He’ll only deny them.”

“Thanks,” Nick said, sipping his wine. “I try to get something out of Bianca but she must be too young to remember all the good bits.”

“There are no good bits,” Bruno insisted.

“I’m sure you’ll hear plenty of stories soon enough,” Ayrton said with a grin.

“You’re horrible,” Bruno muttered, pouting a little.

“I have Alain to do the same with Nico,” Nick said. “Won’t be long before I have all the embarrassing stories of all my team mates.”

“You’re… teammates with Nicolas?” Ayrton said. He was pretty sure he’s missed something.

“In WEC,” Nick said. “Take it you don’t follow the series?”

“I…” Ayrton squirmed uncomfortably on his chair. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to agree to do this, not when he still had so much to learn. “No, I’m sorry.”

“We’ll have to get you into it,” Nick said. “Do you follow much racing at all?”

“I…” No, this definitely wasn’t such a good idea. “Not really.”

“Oh,” Nick said, a little surprised. He quickly hid the shock on his face though, smiling and taking another sip of wine. “Well, you won’t mind me beating this one on the track then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of myself if I were you, Heidfeld,” Bruno said, grinning. “Who finished inside the top ten?”

“Would have done if Nico hadn’t tried to kill me,” Nick pointed out. “This time next year, we’ll see who’s laughing.”

Bruno stuck his tongue out at his team mate in reply. Ayrton watched his nephew, bewildered about how at ease he seemed with the whole situation.

After a few more minutes winding Nick up, Bruno excused himself to go to the toilet, leaving Ayrton alone with Nick.

“So,” Nick said. “Are you staying here?”

“Yeah,” Ayrton said.

“Doubt you would have been able to get in if you hadn’t been,” Nick joked. There had been swarms of photographers and reporters outside the hotel when he and Bruno arrived.

“And now I do not know if I’ll ever be able to leave,” Ayrton said.

“We’ll have to smuggle you out,” Nick said. He grinned, but sighed when he saw Ayrton couldn’t return the smile. “It’ll be fine. They’ll get bored of hanging around outside soon enough.”

“You really think?” Ayrton asked. He didn’t believe it for a second.

“Maybe not,” Nick admitted. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

He smiled, reassuringly, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ayrton was still on edge. Nick couldn’t imagine what it was like, to be sheltered from fame for so long and then suddenly being plunged into it. He remembered when he’d first started driving and people had started to ask him for autographs. He’d felt a little sick after his first autograph session. But he got the impression that was nothing compared to this.

“So,” Nick said, slowly, when the silence became too uncomfortable. “You’ve met Nico, I take it.”

Ayrton jumped, a little lost in his own thoughts. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve met Nicolas. Has he… said anything?”

“Nope, but he’s been acting funny all week,” Nick said. “I notice these things, Ayrton.”

He smiled, but there was something about the way he spoke that made Ayrton a little uncomfortable. Before he could say anything else, though, Bruno returned, still grinning.

“Has the food still not come?” he asked, sitting down.

“They’re probably still picking out your olives,” Nick said.

“It is not my fault I can’t stand them,” Bruno said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of the taste of them.

“You probably wouldn’t even notice if they were in there,” Nick said, laughing at the look on Bruno’s face. “And anyway, if you hate them so much, why didn’t you order something else.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Bruno insisted.

“Has he always been this fussy an eater?” Nick asked, turning to Ayrton.

“Ever since he was a child,” Ayrton said. “I remember when he wouldn’t eat anything but mangos for nearly two months.”

“When was this?” Bruno asked. “I don’t remember that?”

“You were five,” Ayrton said. “The only reason you started to eat anything else was because… because dad said you couldn’t be a racing driver and live off of mangos.”

Ayrton tried to hide the cringe as he spoke. He was going to have to get used to it.

“That sounds about right,” Nick said, loving the way Bruno’s face went bright red.

“So then it was only mangos and oranges for the next two months,” Ayrton said.

 

_It had stopped raining by the time the boat reached the shore. For a few moments, Ayrton didn’t realise he’d stopped moving, his eyes still screwed shut. He gulped when he realised where he was, trying to stop himself from shaking as he stood and climbed out of the boat._

_He’d done it. He’d lost Jules._

_Ayrton stood on the sandy beach, his back to the sand dunes and the green hills behind them, looking out over the water. It was calm now. It was impossible to imagine the heavy storm that Ayrton had found himself caught up in now that he was stood in the peace._

_There was no sign of Jules. No sign of anything for as far as Ayrton could see. He knew, beyond the horizon, the river banks would appear and maybe the little boy had made his way onto them._

_Who knew what had happened to him if he’d ended up there…_

_Ayrton closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddery breath. It would be ok. They would get someone to find him. He wouldn’t be left behind._

_A small cough made Ayrton open his eyes. Further along the beach, something had washed ashore. A small lump tried to push itself up, but collapsed with a coughing fit._

_“Jules!”_

_Kicking up sand as he went, Ayrton raced over to the little boy, helping him to sit up and rubbing his back as he coughed up water._

_“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Ayrton tried to reassure him as Jules spluttered and sobbed. “You’re safe now. It’s alright now.”_

_Jules tried to grab a breath to reply, but all he could do was cough some more._

_“Just try to take deep breaths,” Ayrton said, gently, sitting down beside him once he was sure Jules could sit up by himself. “It’ll get easier.”_

_They sat for a while whilst Jules got his breath back, the stinging in his throat and chest gradually disappearing. He couldn’t stop the sobs though, no matter how many deep breaths he took._

_“I… want… I want to go home,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes._

_“I know you do,” Ayrton said, gently, still rubbing Jules’ back. “You… you can’t go home, Jules. I’m sorry.”_

_“But… but…” Jules shook his head, as if that might make the situation any better._

_“I’m sorry,” Ayrton said again. “Jules, you di-.”_

_“Get off of me!” Jules snapped, pulling away from Ayrton and standing on still wobbly legs._

_“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Ayrton said, calmly, standing._

_“Let me go home!” Jules cried, backing away from Ayrton._

_“Come and sit back down,” Ayrton said, gently. “Let me explain.”_

_Jules shook his head again, putting his hands over his ears and closing his eyes. “Don’t want. Don’t want.”_

_“You died, Jules,” Ayrton said, speaking loud enough so that he knew Jules had heard him. “I’m sorry.”_

_“No!”_

_Ayrton sighed and knelt down in front of the little boy. Gently, he took Jules’ hands away from his ears and held them together, waiting for him to open his eyes before he spoke again. Tears welled in Jules’ eyes and Ayrton could feel himself starting to tear up a little too._

_“You know who I am, don’t you Jules?”_

_Jules gulped another shuddery breath, wanting to pull away but knowing it was no use._

_He nodded._

_“I know it is scary,” Ayrton said, quietly. “But you’re safe now. I promise.”_


	29. I'm gonna carry you in my head, in my heart, in my soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals a lot with death, with the death of Justin Wilson and, as always, with Ayrton's death. No descriptions of any crashes or injuries but it is rather sad, dealing mostly with losing a family member.
> 
> Chapter title from Ocean Breathes Salty By Modest Mouse

“Justin’s gone.”

Bruno blinked stupidly, trying to read some kind of hint of a joke from Nick’s face, but there was nothing.

“Gone?”

Nick nodded. Bruno stepped aside to let him into his hotel room. It was early, Nick hadn’t even gone down to have breakfast yet, but he’d heard the news and come straight over.

Bruno let the door fall shut, but he couldn’t move for a couple of moments.

“Why does this keep happening?” he asked, quietly.

“It’s racing,” Nick said, but he knew that wasn’t the answer Bruno was looking for.

Bruno shook his head, falling into the chair. This wasn’t right. They kept saying that things were getting safer, and maybe they were, but it wasn’t good enough. He knew it was part of the risk they took – they all knew about it when they started racing – but that risk wasn’t supposed to be so high. Not anymore.

“He had kids,” Bruno said quietly.

Something caught in Nick’s throat and he swallowed hard, hoping his team mate hadn’t seen him falter. That had been his first thought too.

“They’ll be looked after,” he said.

“They lost their dad, Nick,” Bruno said. It wasn’t fair. Justin had made the choice to race, just like he had, just like Ayrton had. But the kids hadn’t made that choice, and they were the ones that were going to suffer.

“I know,” Nick said. He didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing else to say…

“Do you worry about them?” Bruno asked, after a moment’s silence.

“My kids?” Nick asked. “All the time.”

He thought back to that day in Beijing, nearly a year ago now. It had only been a fraction of a second, but he seemed to remember the entire thing in slow motion. He could remember being angry at Nico at first, until he noticed the wall, realised he wasn’t going to stop…

Bruno just nodded, not wanting to say what was on his mind, but he knew Nick could tell what he was thinking about.

“Come on,” Nick said, trying to get some enthusiasm into his voice. “Breakfast. We’ve still got a day of testing ahead of us.”

“Are they going to do anything?” Bruno asked, looking up at Nick.

“For Justin?” Nick asked. He gave a small shrug. He hadn’t seen anything yet, but the only person he’d spoken to already was Bruno. “Maybe. If we don’t hear anything by the time we get there, do you want to suggest something?”

Bruno nodded. They needed to do something. They’d raced with him. He was part of the family and now he was gone.

“We’ll do that then,” Nick said, offering a hand to help Bruno out of his chair. Bruno looked at it, blinking a couple of times before he realised what Nick was doing and shook his head.

“I’ll be down later,” he said. “I need to…”

His voice trailed off. He didn’t know what he needed to do, but he knew it wasn’t to just go down stairs and have breakfast with Nick as if there was nothing wrong.

Nick just nodded. “Alright then. If you’re not down half an hour before we have to go, I’m coming to get you though. And you better not be asleep.”

 

He was safe.

That was all that mattered. Jules was safe and he was going to be alright now.

Ayrton knew this wasn’t what Jules wanted. Nobody wanted to find themselves on that beach, alone and away from everyone they knew, but it was for the best. And it was much better than the alternative.

Which meant he had nothing to worry about now.

Everything that had happened with Nelson going to the press was punishment for losing Jules in the river. But there was nothing to punish him over now, or nothing that Ayrton could think of anyway. His parents would arrive that afternoon and he’d proven that he deserved for his plan to go off without a hitch.

It was settling. The night before, he could never have imagined being this calm but, lying in bed and listening to the rain patter against the window, he knew everything was going to be alright.

There was a quiet knock at the door and even the thought that this might be Alain come to moan at him about something else couldn’t wipe out Ayrton’s good mood.

Bruno smiled weakly at him when Ayrton opened the door, but there were tears in the younger man’s eyes and his hands were shaking. That _was_ enough to ruin the good mood.

“What’s happened?” Ayrton asked, bringing Bruno inside and sitting him down as the shaking became more violent.

Bruno’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to speak and he shook his head. When he opened his mouth, a small sob escaped and a single tear ran down his face.

Ayrton knelt in front of him, taking hold of his hands as he had done Jules and looked up at his nephew.

“Bruno, what’s happened?”

“They don’t have a dad,” Bruno said quietly, and then that was it. He couldn’t stop himself from crying now, couldn’t stop the sobs strangling his voice. “He’s just gone and it’s not fair because they never asked for this and they never wanted it and I know he didn’t want it either but he had a choice and it isn’t fair on them and what if they grow up to hate him because he’s not there when he should be but he doesn’t deserve that but maybe he does because he put racing above them and maybe he deserves to have them hate him but he doesn’t because he was nice and he loved them so much and I know it but they don’t and I know it’s not safe and he knew it’s not safe but he didn’t think that this was going to happen so you can’t really blame him but they will and I don’t want that to happen but I know it will because it’s just not fair.”

“Bruno, Bruno _breath_ ,” Ayrton said, trying not to panic.

Bruno gulped, shuddering as he tried to calm himself down, but every time he took a deep breath it was just used for another sob.

“Ok,” Ayrton said, calmly. “What has happened?”

Bruno shook his head. He didn’t want to say it aloud. He didn’t want it to be true.

“Bruno, I can’t help if you don’t tell me,” Ayrton said with a small smile, hoping to cheer his nephew up a little.

“You can’t do anything,” Bruno said, quietly. There was nothing any of them could do about it now and they could try and make racing safer all they wanted to but people were still dying.

“Maybe not, but we won’t know until you tell me,” Ayrton said.

Bruno looked at Ayrton and, for just a moment, the smile calmed him a little. It was a long time ago that he would have believed that smile, believed Uncle Ayrton could make everything better no matter how big the problem was, because that’s what Uncle Ayrton always did. But then the moment was gone, and the kick to the stomach Bruno felt hurt almost as much as when Nick gave him the news.

“Justin’s dead,” Bruno said.

Ayrton’s face fell. “Oh,” he said, quietly. “Oh Bruno, I’m so sorry.”

“And now his kids don’t have a dad,” Bruno continued. “And they’re going to hate him for leaving them.”

“They won’t hate him,” Ayrton said, gently.

“I did,” Bruno said, suddenly looking up.

“What?”

“Before,” Bruno said. “When I didn’t understand. I hated you.” He closed his eyes, shuddering a little at the memory. “Because… because Sid said stop. He told you to stop but you didn’t listen and I didn’t understand that you needed to be in the car. And I didn’t understand why you didn’t care. But I understand now.”

When he opened his eyes, Ayrton was gaping at him. Bruno shrugged, trying to smile, but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly.

“Bruno, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Ayrton said, wiping away his nephew’s tears. “I… _I’m_ the one that should be sorry.”

He’d never… never even considered that. He remembered the conversation with Sid, how they were both going to go fishing. He’d like to say he’d considered it, thought about the possibility of packing it all in but had decided to battle on and race, but that wasn’t how it happened. He hadn’t even considered. He’d just _had_ to drive.

“I really am sorry,” Ayrton said.

“It’s ok,” Bruno said. “I understand now.”

 

Nico had never heard a race track so silent. He stood between his engineer and his team mate, able to feel the emotion on the silent track.

Alain stood on the other side of Sebastien. They hadn’t spoken yet that morning, Alain wisely choosing to keep out of Nico’s way most of the evening before as well once he knew Nico had seen Nelson’s latest comment.

It was stupid.

Not the silence. Nico was glad someone had suggested doing something, because they couldn’t just shrug this away and pretend it was normal, just as much as they couldn’t let drivers dying become normal again.

But…

Every time he got into the car, he risked his life. He knew that and he knew the chances of him killing himself whilst he was in a car were incredibly slim, but they existed. He’d known that since he was a child.

And this… moronic argument his father insisted they keep having, over and over again… it was just stupid. When he was pretty much taunting death every time he got into a car, did he really need to have this strangled relationship with his father.

He didn’t even really understand why they were fighting anymore…

Stood in the silence, remembering what he risked every day, Nico made a decision. They were not going to carry on like this.


	30. You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from My Little Girl By Tim McGraw
> 
> This is my favourite chapter I've written so far, ok.

Bruno couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong. Once the silence was over and they’d gone back to the plan they’d been preparing the day before, everyone else seemed to have gone back to normal, but he couldn’t get his mind to stay in the right place for long enough. But whenever Nick or his engineers tried to snap him out of the state, he couldn’t recall what he’d been thinking about.

“There’s more of them,” Nick said after Bruno had come back from a longer run in the car.

Nick had been watching the press officer dealing with a stream of journalists for most of the morning. They would all giddily glance in his direction and Nick would give them a little wave from where he was sat with his tea, knowing he wasn’t the one they were trying to get interviews with.

Bruno wasn’t doing any interviews today. He didn’t know that, but Nick, Gill, and the press officer had all decided it was for the best, especially seeing as he didn’t seem to be all there today.

Bruno sighed, falling into the chair beside Nick and blowing onto his hands to try and keep them warm.

“Well, I have to go over the data,” Bruno said.

“Yep,” Nick said, handing Bruno a polystyrene cup of coffee. “Need to be ready for China.”

Bruno nodded, looking down at the cup as if he wasn’t entirely sure why it was there. Nick frowned, trying to catch his team mate’s eye.

“Bruno, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…” Bruno murmured. The entire day just felt off. He didn’t like it.

“Is it Justin?” Nick asked.

Bruno shrugged. He didn’t know what was wrong. It was probably Justin, and remembering what it had been like before, but he didn’t know for sure.

“Maybe you should stay in here for the rest of the day,” Nick suggested. “I can do your runs. We’ll sort something out.”

“No, I’m ok,” Bruno said. He didn’t want to be cooped up in here all day. Being in the car gave him something to focus on. It was warmer in there too.

“Alright,” Nick said, standing. “But the offer’s there.”

 

Alain had spent most of the morning trying to keep a tabs on what Nelson was up to. There didn’t seem to be anything more shocking being reported – Alain would be impressed if Nelson could come up with something more shocking than he already had – but he thought it would be better to keep an eye on things. Nelson had a habit of surprising him.

He’d also been watching the rest of the pit lane, keeping an eye on how everyone else was coping. The news about Justin hadn’t shocked him, not after he’d heard about the driver’s condition the day before. He didn’t feel the same loss he’d felt when he’d heard about Jules and Alain wasn’t sure if that was because he hadn’t known the American like he’d known Jules or if this was just him getting used to the deaths again.

He didn’t want to get used to the deaths again.

Everyone else seemed to be getting along as though there was nothing wrong. Maybe that was just what was going on on the outside, Alain thought. He was pretty sure he didn’t seem all that bothered about what had happened from the outside. But he’d been expecting some difference. A more sombre attitude to the final day of testing. Maybe he was just getting sentimental.

There only seemed to be one person visibly shaken by what had happened. Alain looked up from his phone – another report on Nelson’s comments from the day before – as the claxon sounded to announce the return of the Mahindra car to the garage.

Bruno’s times had been off all day, even compared to the day before, and Alain was sure this wasn’t about something Nelson had said. But he didn’t remember Bruno ever being particularly close to Justin, either.

He was going to have to find out what was going on.

“Dad?”

Nico offered Alain a weak smile when he turned around. He hadn’t heard Nico come over.

“Can we talk?” Nico asked.

“Is there something wrong with the car?” Alain asked. He knew he wasn’t paying attention but he was pretty sure he would have noticed if Nico had done something catastrophic to the car.

“No,” Nico said. “It’s nothing about the car.”

“Can it wait then?” Alain asked. He’d spotted Bruno taking a break and he wanted to go over and make sure the Brazilian was alright before some member of the press started to harass him again.

“I’d… I’d rather do it now,” Nico said. He needed to do this before he could talk himself out of it.

“I just need to go and speak to Bruno,” Alain said.

“Oh,” Nico said, his entire body falling a little. “Of course.” He didn’t even know why he was surprised.

Alain smiled and patted Nico on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later,” Alain promised, before ducking away to go and catch up with Bruno.

Nico sighed, watching his father go and trying to stay calm, but his hands were already clenched into fists.

“Of course,” Nico muttered, wondering why his father couldn’t be such a good parent to his _actual_ child.

 

The party was boring, nothing like Nico had thought it would be like when he’d begged his mother to take him with her. He knew it was for Papa’s work, not like his friend’s birthday parties, and there would be mostly adults there, but it was still a party, and Nico had thought that would mean it would be fun.

Apparently he was wrong.

All the adults cooed over him, trying to give him kisses and laughing when he screwed up his nose because he didn’t _like_ kisses except from Mama and Papa, and sometimes the dog.

There was nothing to _do_ at the party, either. The adults didn’t seem to be doing anything fun, just stood with drinks and talking to one another, and Nico was pretty sure this wasn’t a party at all, and he’d been taken to the wrong place by accident.

There weren’t even any other children, he thought as he miserably followed his mother around to another group of people she wanted to talk to.

That was when Nico spotted him: another little boy, a little smaller than him, playing with a little toy car. Nico beamed.

The boy hid behind his mother’s legs as soon as he spotted Nico, bringing the toy car he had been driving along the floor up to his face so that Nico could only see his eyes. Nico froze, trying to work out why the other boy was so scared, but there didn’t seem to be a reason.

“Oh Bruno,” the boy’s mother hushed, running her fingers through her son’s hair. “There’s no need to be shy.”

The other boy – Bruno – only shuffled closer to his mother.

The adults all just laughed and went back to whatever they were talking about.

“Do you have any other cars?” Nico asked. Maybe the other little boy would let them race.

Bruno nodded, crouching down and picking up another car.

“Can we race?” Nico asked.

“Oh god,” said one of the adults. “Don’t let Ron hear you say that, Nicolas. We’ll be out of a job.”

Nico frowned, looking up at the adults as they burst out laughing again. He turned to Bruno, wondering if the other boy knew what they were laughing at, but Bruno looked just as confused.

“Uncle Ayrton,” he called, shuffling away from his mother towards the man who had spoken and raising his arms. “Pick ups?”

The man sighed, and crouched down. “Why don’t you go and play race cars with Nicolas?”

Bruno pouted, not happy with this answer. The man rolled his eyes.

“Do you know who this is?” he asked, shuffling a little closer to Nico. “This is Alain’s son. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

Bruno frowned and shook his head.

The man grinned. “It means he’s easy to beat in a race.”

Bruno’s face lit up and he turned back to Nico excitedly. Nico was no longer smiling. He wasn’t easy to beat in a race. He _always_ won the races with his Papa.

Bruno offered Nico the other little car and Nico snatched it away. He’d show them how good he was in races.

 

“Papa! Papa! I won!” Nico called, trying to drag his father away from the people he was talking to and showing him the little car he’d won with. It was the longest, toughest race ever, but he’d won.

“Yes, well done, Nicolas,” Alain said, shaking Nico away and going back to the conversation.

“Come on, Papa,” Nico said, not taking that as the answer. “Will show you where we raced.”

“Not now, Nicolas,” Alain said. He was pretty sure his wife was supposed to be controlling Nico. She was the one who had let him come here in the first place.

“Oh Alain,” said the man he was talking to. “Go and have a look at where he raced.”

Alain rolled his eyes, but excused himself from the conversation. Nico beamed when he realised his father was following him. He took hold of Alain’s hand again and took him into the hall, where the race had started and finished.

“Bruno?” Alain asked when he spotted the younger child sat at the bottom of the stairs. He took his hand away from Nico’s, going to see what was wrong.

Fat tears rolled down the younger boy’s cheeks. Nico rolled his eyes. Bruno was a sore loser.

“What’s the matter?” Alain asked.

“Papa?” Nico said, uncertainly. He hadn’t even started showing him the race.

“Did you do this, Nicolas?” Alain asked, putting Bruno on his lap.

Nico shook his head. “Just won the race,” he said, quietly.

“Nicolas made me fall over,” Bruno said between sobs. “And lost the race and Uncle Ayrton said it would be easy.”

“Did you trip Bruno up?” Alain asked.

Nico shook his head, tears in his own eyes now. “He just fell over.”

“You made me fall over,” Bruno said. “Went too fast up the steps.”

“Oh dear,” Alain said. “Where did you hurt?”

Bruno shook his head. “Not hurt anymore. Kissed it better like mama does.”

Nico rubbed the tears out of his eyes, because _he_ wasn’t a cry baby. “Papa? I’ll show you the race now?”

Alain wasn’t listening. “Why are you crying then?” he asked, smiling in the hope it might cheer Bruno up.

“Because lost the race,” Bruno said again. “Lost the race _and_ fell over _and_ got bumped and Uncle Ayrton said the race would be _easy_.”

The four year old let out another loud sob, sounding very much as if the world was about to end.

“I think someone sounds tired.”

Nico jumped as the man from before came into the hallway.

“Am not tired,” Bruno moaned as his uncle took him from off Alain’s lap.

Ayrton laughed when Bruno yawned “I think it’s time for a nap, yeah?” he said before turning to Nico. “Do you want a nap too, Nicolas?”

Nico shook his head. “I’m a big boy.” A big boy who didn’t cry when he lost races.

“I’m a big boy too,” Bruno complained as his uncle took him up the stairs, but Ayrton just laughed again.

“You can go and have a nap, Nicolas,” Alain said, pushing Nico towards the stairs. That would get the child out of their hair for half an hour, at least.

“But I’m a big boy,” Nico complained. He didn’t _need_ naps. “Mama says.”

“Go and have a nap,” Alain said, sternly.

Nico thought about arguing. Papa probably didn’t know he didn’t have naps anymore, he was away all the time. But he decided against it. He wasn’t going to go and nap but maybe he could stay away from all the adults that wanted kisses.

 

Nico was glaring so hard at the ceiling he was giving himself a head ache. Bruno was curled up next to him in the big double bed, his eye lids drooping and his thumb in his mouth.

“Your fault we have to go for naps,” the four year old said, sleepily.

“You were crying,” Nico pointed out, not moving his glare from the ceiling.

“Because you make me fall over,” Bruno argued, sniffing a little.

“Did not,” Nico said. He hadn’t even touched him. He’d been far ahead of the younger boy when he’d heard the soft little thud.

“Did,” Bruno said. “Ran on the stairs. Not allowed to run on the stairs.”

“It was a race,” Nico said. This was so stupid. He hoped he never had a little brother. If he was anything like Bruno, he’d be too annoying to bear.

“Still not allowed to run on the stairs,” Bruno said. “When we are finished with naps, I will tell your Papa that you were running on the stairs. _And_ I will tell _Uncle Ayrton_.”

He smiled smugly. If that wasn’t a threat, Bruno didn’t know what was.

“Fine,” Nico said. “And I will tell your uncle Ayrton that I am not rubbish at racing.” Nico thought for a moment, noticing Bruno’s bottom lip beginning to wobble. “Will tell him that I could even beat _him_ in a race, am so good at racing.”

“No!” Bruno cried, suddenly sitting up. “ _Nobody_ can beat Uncle Ayrton in races. He always wins. Because he’s the best.”

“Doesn’t _always_ win,” Nico said, looking at the four year old as if he were mad.

Bruno nodded frantically. “Does. He told me.”

“He’s telling fibs then,” Nico said, folding his arms.

“NO!” Bruno shrieked. “Is not telling fibs. Always wins races. Only doesn’t win races when your Papa cheatededs.”

“My Papa doesn’t cheateded,” Nico said, sitting up.

“Does,” Bruno said, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks again. “And you do, when you ran on the stairs.”

“Had to run on the stairs,” Nico said. “It was a _race.”_

“Cheateded,” Bruno said.

“Did not.”

“Did!”

“DID NOT!”

 

“…but I’d never have my Nicolas go into racing,” Alain said. “Far too dangerous.”

“Hmmm,” Ayrton agreed. “You’d have him on a golf course somewhere, wouldn’t you Alain?”

“Nicolas will do whatever he wants to do,” Anne-Marie said. “And I’m sure Viviane would say the same of Bruno.”

“Bruno’s already decided he wants to be a racing driver,” Ayrton said. “The only way we can get him to do anything is with threats about driving.”

Ayrton was a little surprised he hadn’t had to use the line about racing drivers needing their sleep when he’d put him to bed.

“I’m sure he’ll do great,” Anne-Marie said. “Don’t you think, Alain?”

Before Alain could reply, there was a loud thud from above.

 

Bruno was sat on the floor wailing when the door opened whilst Nico sat on the bed, looking very much like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Oh dear,” Viviane said, picking her son up and sitting him on her lap. “What happened here?”

“Nicolas pushed me out of the bed,” Bruno moaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Didn’t,” Nico cried, trying not to cry himself because he couldn’t get in trouble _again_. “Fell out himself. Was trying to hit me with the pillow.”

“Why were you trying to hit him with the pillow?” Ayrton asked from where he and Alain were watching in the doorway.

“Because he said I was telling fibs,” Bruno said. He wasn’t telling fibs. Uncle Ayrton had told him so it had to be true.

“Your Uncle Ayrton can’t win _all_ the races,” Nico said. “Papa wins _sometimes_.”

Ayrton snorted. “Hear that Alain. _Sometimes_.”

“I think we should get going,” Alain said. They’d spent long enough here to be considered respectable. If they stayed any longer Nico was probably going to end up killing the younger child. “Come on Nicolas.”

Nico sighed and pushed himself off of the bed. He glanced back at Bruno before taking hold of Alain’s hand and following him down the stairs, wondering how the four year old managed to get everyone’s attention so easily.


	31. You let me go, you let me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Blue Traveler's pretty angry

It had always been the same, Nico thought bitterly. He watched the fans wander past the garage on their pit walk, sat at the back with his engineer again. Maybe he’d go and speak to some of them later. He should probably show his face and not just leave it all to Sebastien, but there was a lot to go through, and he wasn’t in the mood for any of this today.

Who knew where Alain was…

It had been the same since they were kids: Bruno getting all the attention and Nico… not. It had bugged Nico more when he was younger, when he couldn’t understand why his father was fussing over his friend and never him, but he liked to think he’d grown out of that. It wasn’t true. Maybe he just ignored it. Most of the time, Nico pretended he didn’t care but, sometimes, it hit him.

Like now.

“What is the matter with you?” Sebastien asked, coming back over to sit down beside his team mate.

“What?”

“You?” Sebastien said. “You look as if you’re trying to kill someone.”

“I’m fine,” Nico lied.

“What has he done this time?” Sebastien asked. He knew he’d get more of a reply from Alain but it was best to hear both of the stories.

“Who?”

“Alain,” Sebastien said. He’d been between the two of them enough times to know that was who Nico was angry at. It was who Nico was _always_ angry at.

“It’s nothing,” Nico said, shaking his head. He stood. If Sebastien wasn’t going to let him go through his data, he might as well see to the fans. He needed _something_ to keep his mind off of everything.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Alain asked, quietly.

He was sat beside Bruno, behind the garages and out of the way of anyone who might want to disturb them.

Bruno sighed, running his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to admit it out loud again. It had hurt enough telling his uncle. But Alain had seen what he’d been like before. It wasn’t admitting anything new.

“Remember when I was twelve?” Bruno asked, quietly.

Alain nodded. “When you were that rebellious teenager that told his little sister I was going to hell?”

Bruno tried to smile but Alain could tell it was off.

“I was just so angry,” Bruno said, quietly.

“I know you were,” Alain said, putting his arm over Bruno’s shoulder like he had done when the Brazilian had been younger. “You had every right to be.”

Bruno shook his head. He didn’t even really remember what he was angry about: just everything and anything, he guessed.

“What’s wrong?” Alain asked again. He was trying to make the connection between the comment and the look on Bruno’s face. He’d thought this was about Justin but that didn’t make any sense anymore.

“I shouldn’t have hated him,” Bruno said, quietly, not looking at Alain. There was a van across the paddock and Bruno fixed his gaze on it, trying to convince himself what the men were loading into the van was the most interesting thing in the world.

Alain sighed. “I think we all hated him, at one point,” he said.

He knew he had. Maybe it was a stage of grief, once the denial passed and the sadness had subsided. Maybe it was normal to blame the deceased. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it.

“And now they’ll hate Justin,” Bruno said, quietly.

He didn’t know why it had affected him so much. It wasn’t as if he’d been close to Justin. They’d raced together, they’d chatted in the bar afterwards, crossed in the hotel lobby. But it wasn’t as if he had been Nico or Nick or Karun to him. Just another driver.

“They?” Alain asked, a little confused.

“His kids.”

“Ah,” Alain said. “Well… they’ll understand, eventually, won’t they? They’ll realise how much he loved them and-.”

“Not enough to stop driving though,” Bruno muttered and Alain was a little surprised to see the glare the Brazilian was now fixing on the men loading the van. He wasn’t entirely sure which situation Bruno was talking about anymore, or if there was any difference.

“Sometimes people can’t just stop,” Alain tried.

“I… I know,” Bruno said, tears in his eyes. He wiped them hurriedly, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m just… confused.”

“It’s alright,” Alain said, gently, offering him a warm smile. “Why don’t you go and get some lunch? I’ll tell them where you’ve gone.”

“Thank you,” Bruno said, quietly, standing. Sometimes he didn’t know where he’d be if Alain hadn’t always been there for him.

Alain watched Bruno leave the paddock to head to the diner, making sure he was out of earshot before he sighed. Now why couldn’t talking to Nico be that easy?

 

“I know it’s not your job, but could you at least _try_ to be a little more engaging,” Nico’s communications officer said. “It would be help me do my job.”

“They don’t want to see me anyway,” Nico muttered. The pit walk had gone by without much fuss. Most people had just dawdled past the e.dams garage, wandering back around when they realised there wasn’t anything else to see.

“Sure they do,” the officer said. “Don’t you remember what it was like when you were a kid, meeting racing drivers?”

“I grew up with racing drivers,” Nico reminded her. He shook his head, unable to tell if she was just trying to convince him to come out of his shell a little more or if she really thought any of the fans there had any interest in him what so ever. “Nobody’s ever interested in me.”

The officer sighed. What had she done that was bad enough to land her with Pessimistic Prost?

“Sure they are,” she tried.

Nico shook his head. “You and I both know the only reason half these people are here is-.”

A fuss outside the diner caught both of their attention. Bruno. Of course. It looked like a group of fans had ambushed him as he left the diner and, on a normal day, Nico might have felt a little sorry for him, but not today.

Why did _he_ never get that? Why did nobody ever come up to him to ask for a fraction of his time? He knew Bruno hated it, but Bruno had no idea how much Nico craved that attention.

On the bright side, at least he was going to get to prove his point.

“If even one person says a word to me, I will give you ten euro,” Nico said, marching off in the direction of the fuss.

The officer rolled her eyes before following him.

Nobody looked away from their food as Nico went past and the Frenchman couldn’t stop his heart from sinking a little. He knew what to expect but it always hurt and maybe if his father or Sebastien or _anyone_ could see things through his eyes they’d realise why he-

“Happy birthday for the other week,” a girl called as Nico marched past, making him stop in his tracks.

 

Bruno was still in a bit of a strange mood by the time he arrived back at the hotel. Nick didn’t know what was wrong with him, knowing not to pry. If Bruno wanted to tell him, he’d tell him in his own time.

“What are you doing for dinner?” he asked, instead.

“I…” Bruno knew he had something to do for dinner, but he couldn’t remember what it-

His grandparents.

“I need to go,” Bruno said, rushing to the elevator. He hoped they hadn’t already arrived. There was nothing he could do if they had but he’d hoped he could at least talk to Ayrton before they did. He knew his uncle had a plan, but he had no idea what that was and he was a little worried. This seemed like the kind of thing Alain should probably know about.

Nick watched him go. At least that had snapped him out of the mood.

 

Ayrton had been watching the clock all day, going over the plan over and over again whilst he waited for the hours to tick by.

Viviane would phone him when they arrived at the airport, then it was just a short drive to the hotel and then-

This had to work. Ayrton knew it would, because there was nothing to punish him over anymore, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. The reaction had been bad enough coming from Viviane. He didn’t know if he could handle the same thing from his parents.

He jumped up at the knock at the door, quickly letting Bruno inside.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He hadn’t liked how Bruno had left that morning.

Bruno nodded. “It was fine.”

“No more questions?” Ayrton asked.

Bruno shook his head. It was strange. He didn’t think he’d spoken to a member of the press all day…

“When does mum arrive?” Bruno asked, hoping he could get a couple of hours to get his head around whatever it was that Ayrton’s plan was.

“I’m not-.” Before Ayrton could finish, the phone started to ring.

This was it them.


	32. I always thought that I'd see you again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from James Taylor's Fire and Rain.
> 
> This is a very happy chapter set in the second half of 1994. And yes, the first part of that sentence is sarcastic.

Bianca had questions. Lots of questions. And Bruno was doing his best to answer them, but it wasn’t always easy.

It had started when she’d crawled into his bed the night after their uncle had died, unable to sleep alone. And it hadn’t stopped in the months since.

“Bruno! Bianca! Dinner!”

The table in the dining room had been pushed up against the wall when Paula was born and they needed somewhere to store her toys. Which meant Bruno knew he wasn’t even going to have any peace at dinner.

“Bruno?” Bianca asked curiously, watching Paula in her high chair as mama and papa dished dinner together in the kitchen.

“Yes?” Bruno asked, not letting her see when he rolled his eyes.

“Do you have to be good to go heaven?”

That was her new obsession, it seemed. Heaven. Bruno had answered _one_ question about the place whilst she’d lay, curled up beside him that night, and now Bianca seemed to think Bruno knew everything there was to know about the afterlife.

Bruno answered the questions though. It was better than letting his little sister wonder off and ask mama…

“Yes,” he said. “No more questions.”

“But Bruno…” Bianca whined. “Where will Mr Prost go?”

Bruno sighed, falling back into his chair beside his sister. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “To hell, probably.”

“Bruno,” papa scolded as he came in with a plate in each hand, setting them in front of his eldest two children. “Language.”

“Sorry Papa,” Bruno said, grimacing at the food in front of him. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but there was a lot of green, and he didn’t like green…

Bianca dug in happily beside him, pulling faces at Paula to try and stop their little sister from crying.

“Bruno,” she said slowly, and Bruno imagined it would have been in that same inquisitive tone if her mouth hadn’t been full of green stuff.

“No more questions,” Bruno snapped, starting to push food around his plate.

Bianca pouted, which made Paula hiccup a giggle, but turned back to her food.

“This looks lovely, Viviane,” Papa said as he said beside Paula’s high chair, a little plastic bowl of food beside his own plate.

Mama sat beside Bruno. She’d been strange since the accident, Bruno noticed. He pretended he hadn’t noticed, telling Bianca to not be rude whenever she commented on how mama looked like a zombie. Bruno thought she looked how he felt, but sadder.

That was why Bianca couldn’t ask mama the questions. Bruno was sure his mother couldn’t get any sadder than she already was, but he didn’t want to risk it.

He just wished Bianca wouldn’t ask _him_ them either.

Bruno sat in silence for a while, still pushing the food around his plate whilst Bianca chatted cheerfully to papa about what her dollies had been up to that day, papa humming as he fed Paula.

“Bruno, eat some of your dinner.”

Bruno jumped at the sound of his name, surprised to find his sister and father’s plates both almost empty.

Mama hadn’t been eating properly for a while, and Bruno wasn’t surprised to see her plate wasn’t as clean as the others, but even she seemed to have eaten some of the green.

“I can’t eat it,” Bruno said, pushing his plate away.

Papa sighed. “Just eat your food, Bruno. Please.”

“I can’t,” Bruno insisted. “I’m allergic.”

“No you’re not,” Papa said. He sounded tired, and Bruno wondered if Paula had been up all night again or if everyone was just tired these days.

“I am.”

“Bruno,” Papa warned.

“Bruno,” Bianca said, quietly. “You can’t go to heaven if you’re not good.”

“God doesn’t care if I eat dinner or not,” Bruno snapped, sick of this stupid obsession with heaven and death and the afterlife. Why couldn’t his little sister interested in ponies or fairies or something _normal_.

Papa shook his head, taking Paula out of the high chair when she started to cry again.

“Then what does God care about?” Bianca asked, confused.

“NOTHING!” Bruno screamed at his sister, standing. “GOD DOESN’T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. THAT’S WHY UNCLE AYRTON’S DEAD!”

He didn’t wait for a silence to settle before he raced up stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut.

Besides Paula’s wailing, the family was dumbstruck. Papa sighed, looking between his wife, who hadn’t reacted at all to the outburst, and his daughter. Bianca had tears in her eyes but she looked more shocked than upset.

“Here,” he said, gently, placing Paula in mama’s lap. “I’ll go and talk to him.”

He should have seen this coming really. Should have noticed that Bruno had been coping far too well for this.

Papa ruffled Bianca’s hair as he passed. “It’s not your fault,” he said, gently, offering her a smile before heading up the stairs.

 

Bruno had thrown himself onto his bed and hadn’t moved since.

He shouldn’t have snapped. It wasn’t Bianca’s fault she didn’t understand anything, and now she was going to go to mama and papa instead of him and she was going to make mama sadder and he was so _stupid_.

There was a gentle knock at the door. Bruno just moaned into his pillow, hoping whoever it was would go away because he knew he was a stupid idiot and he didn’t need anybody to tell him off for shouting at the dinner table.

They didn’t go away, though. He heard the creak of the door opening and then another sigh. It was Papa then. He sighed a lot recently.

“Bruno,” he said, gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand through Bruno’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Bruno said, but his words were muffled by the pillow he still had his face in.

“ _Piloto pequeno,_ ” papa said, tugging gently on Bruno’s shoulder to make him sit up. “What’s going on?”

Bruno shuddered, snot and tears covering his face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“Why did you shout?” papa asked, pulling Bruno into a one armed hug.

Bruno shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “Bianca keeps asking questions,” he admitted. “About heaven.”

“Ah,” papa said, as if that explained everything. “And I guess you don’t like them?”

Bruno shook his head. He hadn’t minded at first. At first it had been helping, he thought. But the more questions Bianca asked, the more he had to think about it, and he didn’t _want_ to think about it. He didn’t want to think about any of this.

“If it’s been upsetting you so much, why didn’t you come and tell me or mama?” papa asked.

“Because…” Bruno said, sniffing again. “You’re busy with Paula all the time. And mama’s already sad.”

Papa nodded. “Why don’t you come down and eat some dinner,” he suggested. “Then afterwards I’ll sit with you and Bianca and answer all her questions. And any of your questions. Does that sound good?”

Bruno nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. When papa stood, he pushed himself off of the bed, trying to clean up his face a little.

“But I’m allergic,” Bruno said.

Papa huffed a laugh. “Shall I just make you a sandwich?”

 

Papa bounced Paula on his lap, a teething ring stuck in her mouth to keep her quiet. Bruno and Bianca sat on either side of him, Bruno staring at his lap and Bianca trying to figure out what all this was about.

“When people die, they go to a special place called heaven,” Papa explained, slowly. “It is the best place in the world and has everything to make you happy. But it is confusing, because what happens after we die is strange. And I’ll do my best to explain but sometimes there are some things we just don’t know.”

“I know about heaven,” Bianca claimed. “Bruno explains things for me.”

“Yeah,” papa said, glancing down at his son. “But… when people die it can be a very sad thing. And even though heaven is a happy place, thinking about it can make people sad.”

“Did I make you sad?” Bianca asked, suddenly, looking at her brother.

Bruno didn’t answer, or look away from his lap where he was wringing his hands together.

“It’s ok,” papa said, running his hand through Bianca’s hair. “You weren’t to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Bianca said, quietly.

Papa smiled, pressing a kiss to Bianca’s forehead.

“Heaven is where God lives,” he explained. “And it’s where we will live, after we die.”

“Bruno says only good people get to go to heaven,” Bianca said.

“Well, you’re a good person, aren’t you?” papa said, smiling when Bianca nodded. “Well then. And it will be good there. There will be all the things that you will enjoy, and all your favourite foods, and all your favourite toys.”

“Will teddy be there?” Bianca asked.

“Yes.”

“Will you be there?”

“When I die, I will go there too, yes,” papa said.

“Where is it?” Bianca asked.

“It’s in another world,” papa explained. “But, when you look up at the sky at night time, if you look really close, you can see it.”

“Really?”

“You can see the stars,” papa said. “And the stars are windows, just like we have in our house and in our car. And through them, the people in heaven can look down and look at their families who are still alive. And they can see when we’re upset or lonely or confused, and they help God and let Him know, so that He can help us.”

Bianca stared in awe at her father until a small hiccupped sob from her brother caught her attention. Bruno quickly wiped his eyes when he noticed his sister looking at him.

“It’s ok,” papa whispered, putting an arm around Bruno. “It’s ok to be sad.”

“It’s ok Bruno,” Bianca said, leaning over Paula to rub her brother’s hand. “Heaven means that Uncle Ayrton will tell God about us. And it means we get to see him again one day too.”

She smiled a toothy smile at Bruno. Bruno tried to return the smile.


	33. A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Turn! Turn! Turn By The Byrds

Bruno peered around the door, trying to see if there were any press waiting outside, but it looked like the coast was clear. He didn’t know if his grandparents had spoken to the press yet, but this definitely wasn’t the right place to speak to anyone.

He greeted his mother first whilst his grandparents climbed out of the taxi that had brought them from the airport.

“Is he ok?” Viviane asked, quietly.

Bruno nodded, hugging his mum. “I think so.”

He still didn’t know much about Ayrton’s plan, not entirely sure if this was a good thing or not, but he had to trust his uncle.

“ _Piloto pequeno_!” Milton said, grinning warmly as he pulled Bruno into a hug. “How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you,” Bruno said. “How was your flight?”

Neide shuddered. She still didn’t like flying. She didn’t like the way her stomach lurched or her ears popped or that there was nothing she could do if something bad happened.

“Fine,” Milton said.

“Come inside,” Viviane said, leading her parents into the hotel lobby. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs,” Bruno said, jerking his thumb over to the elevator.

“Let’s go then,” Milton said, pressing the button to call for the elevator.

Viviane and Bruno hung back whilst they waited for the elevator to come.

“I think he has a… plan,” Bruno said, quietly.

“What?”

“He didn’t want me to tell Alain that you were coming,” Bruno said. “I don’t know what he’s going to do.”

Viviane closed her eyes and took a deep breath, praying that whatever it was Ayrton had decided to do wasn’t completely stupid. As much as she loved her brother, he did have a habit of not thinking things through when he cared about something.

Milton filled the silence in the elevator by asking about testing and his new team mate, but nobody was focusing on the conversation. Bruno wondered what was going through his grandparents’ minds. He didn’t even know if they were happy with another grandchild or if they were going to disown Ayrton as soon as they saw him.

This really wasn’t a very good idea.

Bruno lead them down the corridor once they reached the right floor, knocking gently on the door.

“Ayrton?” he called, uncertainly, stepping back as the door opened.

Ayrton gulped as he opened the door, standing to the side as he let his family in. He kept telling himself over and over again that this was going to work, because it _had_ to work, but he still couldn’t shake the nervousness.

He kept his head down, eyes on the floor, as his parents came into the room, but he could feel their eyes on him. Before they’d arrived, he’d though he’d had all this planned out, exactly what he was going to say, but now his mind had gone blank.

Ayrton took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare himself, but when he looked up his vision was blurred by tears.

“Ma, Pa” Viviane said when nobody said anything. “This is Ayrton, your grandson.”

“Son,” Ayrton and Neide said at the same time.

Ayrton froze, a little confused. His mother stared back at him, shock slowly falling away to something Ayrton couldn’t quite work out.

Understanding?

She nodded, as if she’d figured something out.

Viviane just gaped at her. “Ma… Ma I know it’s a lot to take in but…”

“Viviane, he’s your brother,” Neide said, taking a step towards Ayrton. “It’s you, isn’t it Beco?”

Ayrton could feel his bottom lip trembling and he just about managed a nod before he fell into his mother, gripping her in a tight hug and burying his face in her shoulder whilst Neide rubbed his back.

Viviane and Bruno looked at one another, trying to decide what to do now.

“What’s going on?” Milton asked.

Neide pulled away from Ayrton and stepped back, taking hold of her husband’s arm with a beam on her face.

“It’s our little boy,” she said. “He came back. Just like they promised.”

“They?” Viviane asked.

Milton shook his head, pulling his arm away from Neide and cupping her face with his hand. “It was just a dream.”

“Look at him,” Neide said, taking hold of Milton’s hand and dragging him closer to Ayrton, who hadn’t moved in fear he might unsettle them more. “Tell me this is not our little boy, Milton. _Look at him_.”

Ayrton closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down. He couldn’t tell _why_ he was crying, whether it was relief or joy or sorrow, but he knew he needed to stop. He couldn’t just stand by and watch if his parents decided they didn’t believe him.

He could feel his father’s eyes boring into him, searching for any fault in his face that might prove his wife wrong and suddenly Ayrton was terrified he might find something. Something he didn’t recognise, that he might have gotten when he was wherever he’d been for the past twenty years.

“What… dream?” Viviane asked, quietly.

“It’s just a stupid dream your mother had,” Milton said, turning away from Ayrton. Bruno noticed tears in his eyes before he wiped them.

“ _You_ had it too,” Neide said. “They said we would see him again soon. We thought…”

Her voice trailed off, her fingers trailing away from Milton’s.

“Your mother thought it was a sign,” Milton said, roughly, his back to everyone now as he fiddled with the lamp on the bedside table. “She thought we were going to die.”

“But this is better, Milton,” Neide tried to explain. “It really is him, I know it. A mother knows her child.”

Milton shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to believe it – of course he wanted to believe it – but. Signs in dreams? Resurrection? These things _didn’t_ happen. And if they did, it wasn’t for anything good.

“Papa?” Ayrton asked, quietly.

Milton physically shuddered because, in some ways, it was so believable. If the past two decades had been wiped from his mind, Milton wouldn’t hesitate to believe it. He looked the same, sounded the same, even stood the same…

“We had a dream too,” Viviane said, watching the back of her father’s head. “Leonardo and I. An angel came. Told us it was Ayrton. It’s true, Pa.”

“You told us he was Ayrton’s son,” Milton said.

“I know…” Viviane said, quietly. “Alain said, after Nelson went to the press, that you wouldn’t believe us.”

“I tried to tell him not to,” Ayrton said. “I told him you need to know the truth.”

Milton hadn’t moved from where he was stood by the lamp, his fingers still.

“Papa, please.”

Milton shook his head. “These things don’t happen to people like us.”

“It happened,” Ayrton said. Finding courage in his mother’s belief, he took his father’s hand and sat down with him on the bed, smiling gently.

“But… how…”

“When Jules died,” Viviane explained. She shrugged a little. She still didn’t fully understand it, but it was the only explanation they had. “The angel said something about power.”

Milton looked from his daughter to his son, trying to blink away the tears from his eyes.

“It’s really you?”


	34. You're my sunshine day and night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from What a difference you've made in my life by Ronnie Milsap
> 
> Sorry no update last weekend. I was in Paris.

It was late by the time Nico arrived back in France. He’d tried to sleep a little on the plane, but couldn’t get his brain to rest for long enough to slip out of wakefulness and, by the time they landed, he felt more exhausted than when he’d got onto the plane.

Sacha was waiting in arrivals when Nico sleepily dragged his suitcase through from the luggage hall. He hugged Nico tightly before taking the smaller of the two bags.

“We thought you were never coming back,” he joked, leading Nico to where his car was waiting.

“So did I,” Nico mumbled. It felt so good to be back home at last. He knew Delphine would be asleep by now, but he didn’t care. Just having her near him would make him feel better.

“How was your birthday?” Sacha asked, grinning.

“You knew, didn’t you,” Nico said.

“We all knew,” Sacha said, opening the boot to his car and helping Nico put his luggage inside. “Oh come on, Nico. He just wanted to do something nice.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Nico said, climbing into the passenger seat of the car. His entire family was a bunch of traitors.

“I take it you loved it,” Sacha said, that smug grin still on his face.

Nico rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn’t worth letting his little brother wind him up over, and leaned back in the car to get comfortable for the journey home.

Thankfully, Sacha drove in silence, letting some radio DJ fill the space for conversation. Nico felt his eyes slip shut as he watched the street lights sweep past and, seemingly moments later, the car was pulling up outside the house.

“Nico,” Sacha said, gently shaking his brother awake. “Home.”

Nico groaned and tried to stretch out, but found himself restricted by the seat belt.

Sacha laughed. “Your wife is weird,” he said.

Nico cracked his eyes open to shoot a questioning look at his brother. Sacha didn’t live that far from them, and Delphine had been telling Nico about how his brother kept checking up on her when he was away to make sure she wasn’t getting too lonely.

“Why now?” Nico asked, assuming this was another story of how Delphine had tried to get her brother in law to leave her alone.

“The coconuts thing?” Sacha said. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about it.”

“What coconuts thing?” Nico asked.

“She was eating coconuts and ketchup,” Sacha said, disgusted. “Weird.”

Nico smiled, knowingly, climbing out of the car. Sacha frowned and followed him.

“What is it?” Sacha asked, curiously.

Nico shook his head, going to the back of the car to get his things out. “Nothing. Just some new diet she’s trying.”

“I don’t think it’s working,” Sacha said. “Have you noticed how much weight she’s put on.”

“Please do not call my wife fat,” Nico said, trying not to laugh.

“I’m not!” Sacha said, rushing to defend himself. “I just mean… I do not think it is healthy that she has put on so much weight so fast and is eating such weird things.”

“I’ll make sure she knows how concerned you are,” Nico said, lifting his rucksack higher onto his shoulder. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Thanks for keeping dad out of our hair for a week,” Sacha said, going back to the driver’s seat.

Nico rolled his eyes and waved as his brother left.

 

Nico sighed. Stood in the doorway, only a thin sliver of light from the hallway illuminated his bedroom. Delphine was curled up on her side of the bed, bed sheets knotted around her. There was just enough light to highlight his wife’s face, blissful and stress-free in her sleeping state.

Sometimes it amazed Nico. He wasn’t sure what it was that made him feel so awe-filled and content. Something about how the world carried on, maybe. Or about how someone so perfect let him be a part of that when he couldn’t offer her nearly as much in return. Or maybe it was just… the stillness.

Nico let the door slide shut silently and tried to change for bed as quietly as possible. As soon as he lay down behind Delphine, the exhaustion returned, and he smiled sleepily as he pressed a small kiss to the back of her neck and slipped his arms around her waist and placing his hands on her swollen stomach.

“Welcome home,” Delphine mumbled, sleepily.

“Sorry,” Nico said.

“It’s alright,” Delphine said, shuffling back and pressing her body against Nico’s. “I was waiting for you.”

Nico huffed a laugh. “You were sleeping.”

“Was not,” Delphine said.

Nico just smiled, pressing his face into her neck and closing his eyes. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Delphine said.

“I cannot wait until this one comes,” Nico said, quietly, brushing his hand against his wife’s belly. “Then you can come with me.”

“Screaming child in tow,” Delphine said.

“Uh huh. Oh.”

Something prodded against his hand and, even now, it made Nico’s heart jump a little. There was a baby. There was a baby so close to him, a part of him growing inside someone he loved and, sometimes, when he thought about it like that, it weirded him out a little.

“He agrees,” Delphine said.

“Of course he does,” Nico said. “Papa’s always right.”

Delphine sighed. “Idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

“Go to sleep.”

 

Delphine was already awake and up by the time Nico woke the next morning. He groaned and stretched out, sprawling into her half of the bed in an attempt to get comfy and go back to sleep, but it was no use. He was awake now.

He’d wanted to take Delphine away somewhere. Just for the few months before he had to go away again, so they could spend it together without his father disturbing them with something stupid like the birthday party. On second thought, he didn’t want to risk taking her too far away. They needed to be close to the hospital in case anything happened with the baby.

Maybe he could just convince his father they’d gone away to the country somewhere, he thought as he pushed himself up.

Nico glanced over to the alarm clock to see what the time was. Sat beside the clock was a little black and grey photo, dated a few days ago.

“Delphine?”

Delphine was in the living room, stretched out on the sofa with a bowl of coconut resting on her stomach.

“What’s this?” Nico asked, holding out the scan photo. He was trying not to sound accusing but he needn’t bother. The only emotion he could get into his voice was panic.

“Oh,” Delphine said, spoon halfway to her mouth. She sat up, slowly, trying not to spill coconut everywhere.

“Oh?” Nico said, jumping into the seat next to her. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

He knew this wasn’t a normal scan. He’d all the dates for those saved onto his calendar, making sure he didn’t miss a moment, and he knew Delphine wouldn’t have any reason to have some secret scan.

When his wife didn’t answer, Nico just panicked more.

“Del? Is everything ok?”

“Of course,” Delphine said, quickly, taking hold of Nico’s hands. “I just… I panicked.”

“What happened?” Nico asked again, the reassurance doing nothing to calm him down.

“He hadn’t moved for a few days…” Delphine said, quietly. “It was nothing. I just panicked.”

“What did the midwife say?” Nico asked, desperately.

“He’s _fine_ Nico,” Delphine insisted. “Just not as wriggly as normal. You felt him last night, didn’t you? I don’t know. Maybe he just likes your voice.”

Nico let out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes. “Thank God.”

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, gently pressing her forehead against Nico’s. “I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“You should have told me,” Nico said, quietly. “Phoned. I would have come straight home. You know I would have.”

“There would have been nothing you could do anyway,” Delphine said, quietly.

“I could have been there for you,” Nico said, trying not to shake now that he thought about how close they’d come… They were so close to the end now. They couldn’t let this happen again.

“He’s fine, Nico,” Delphine whispered, running her hand through Nico’s hair. “I promise.”


	35. Here with your enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you probably know, today's the anniversary of that fateful day in Imola. 22 years. I can't really say much about it - it happened years before I was born - but I think it would be ignorant to just post this today without mentioning it.  
> Sometimes I get lost in New Fic and it seems like a happy story, until you step back and you realise that this is missing. I can't really explain everything I'm thinking at the moment. I don't want to jump onto the band wagon because I honestly never cared much for Ayrton until about a year ago, but... yeah.   
> This doesn't make much sense. I apologise for that.   
> This chapter isn't particularly special, except for the date it was published on. 
> 
> Chapter title from Shinedown's Enemies

“I’m going to have to go out at some point,” Ayrton said, quietly, standing at the window and looking down at the wet little view it offered. He couldn’t see anyone through the window, just the miserable looking street, but he knew there would be someone waiting. There had to be.

Bruno nodded, even though Ayrton wasn’t looking at him. “I asked for them to lengthen our stay,” he said. “But the hotel has other bookings.”

He didn’t quite understand how Ayrton had gotten a room – who had booked it or how they’d known to – but with everything that was going on it didn’t seem very important.

“I’ve a little house down south though,” Bruno said, optimistically. “You can stay there. Until Nico has your passport sorted out.”

Ayrton nodded, only half listening. He didn’t really care where he went at the moment.

When he was happy, the press were good. He didn’t mind having a laugh with them, answering questions, making fools out of the idiots who didn’t want to write about nice things. When he wasn’t happy though… it just seemed wrong. He didn’t want to talk to anybody about anything, let alone dive right down into what he’d done wrong or how he’d screwed up. He wanted to focus on making sure he never did that again, not to be admitting how wrong he’d been.

Now, thinking about going out there and trying to deal with them made his stomach lurch.

“It’s nothing special,” Bruno said. “I don’t really stay there that often, but it’ll be good enough, I’m sure.”

He smiled, brightly, hoping to prompt some kind of emotion from his uncle, but Ayrton still stared out of the window, blank.

“It’ll be alright, you know,” Bruno said.

“You think?” Ayrton asked quietly.

“Of course,” Bruno said, as if it were obvious. “Mum believes you, and grandma, grandpa. We’re all here for you. It has to be alright.”

Ayrton sighed, pushing himself away from the window and turned to face Bruno with a small smile on his face.

“You’re right.”

Bruno beamed. “Of course I am.”

The smile made Ayrton’s easier.

They both jumped up at the knock at the door, wondering for a moment who it could be. Ayrton silently groaned when he realised, letting his nephew go over to answer it.

“You’ve seen your parents?”

“Good morning Alain, how are you?” Ayrton said, glaring at the Frenchman as he barged his way into the room.

“I’ve spoken to Viviane, Ayrton,” Alain snapped. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

“They are my parents,” Ayrton reminded him. “It was not as if I was popping over to speak to your mother. And besides, they wanted to speak to me.”

“You should have told me,” Alain said. He knew Ayrton had trouble seeing the consequences of his actions but surely he had to realise how idiotic he had been. This stupid point scoring he insisted on had to stop if they wanted any hope of getting Ayrton’s life on track.

“What would you have done, Alain?” Ayrton said, folding his arms. “There was no reason for you to be there.”

“I could have…” Alain stopped realising he didn’t know how to answer the question. “I would have helped Ayrton.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Sure,” Alain said. “Just like you didn’t need my help when you decided to go along with Nico’s stupid Twitter idea?”

“That would have worked fine if it weren’t for Piquet,” Ayrton spat.

“You have no idea how bad it would have been if I hadn’t gone to Nelson,” Alain snapped. Maybe he should have let Ayrton go along with the ridiculous plan. That would have taught him. Then they wouldn’t even have been having this argument.

Ayrton didn’t reply, gaping at Alain in disbelief. It took Alain a couple of moments to work back and figure out exactly what he’d said.

“You went to Piquet?”

“Someone had to do something,” Alain said. “You and Nico treat this like a game but it isn’t. This is your life.”

“Yes, _my_ life, Alain,” Ayrton snapped. “You almost made me lie to my own parents.”

“I did what I had to do,” Alain said. It was the only way it would have worked out without this all blowing up in their faces. If Ayrton actually sat down and thought for a moment he would have realised that. “What do you mean “almost”?”

“I told them the truth,” Ayrton said.

“And they believed you?”

“They’re my parents, Alain, of course they believed me,” Ayrton said. “It’s you I don’t believe. Come on, Bruno. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Alain asked, following Ayrton as he went to storm out of the room.

“As far away from you as possible,” Ayrton said, not turning around as he left.

Bruno stood awkwardly, wanting to go after his uncle but knowing he couldn’t just leave things like this. He didn’t understand why Alain had let Nelson do what he’d done. Alain was on their side.

Alain sighed, deciding not to go after Ayrton. He could speak to Bruno. Bruno wasn’t a stubborn asshole.

“You told Nelson to go to the press?” Bruno asked.

Alain nodded, scratching the back of his neck. He sat down, knowing he had some explaining to do.

“I had to stop your uncle doing something stupid,” he began. “And it was the only way I could come up with.”

“But… we were in the middle of testing,” Bruno said. “And all the press… all the questions. Couldn’t it have waited?”

“I didn’t want to risk it.”

Bruno shook his head. He wanted to believe Alain, he really did. But he just didn’t understand.

“It wouldn’t have been that bad, you know,” Bruno said. “And it really hurt him, thinking he was going to have to lie to grandma and grandpa.”

“It was for his own good.”

“But I don’t think it was,” Bruno said.

 

“I thought you’d already gone home,” Nelson said, letting Alain into his hotel room. He wasn’t going to be staying much longer. There were meetings to be had back home. His younger son was midway through another championship and Nelson was doing his best to support him.

“I’m going this evening,” Alain said. He’d been sat in his own room for a while, trying to figure out what he was going to do now. It had been so easy to get used to Ayrton’s stubbornness again, to get used to the way he looked at him and his reactions. But Bruno’s reaction… It was something Alain hadn’t seen for a very long time, and he had never seen it from the young Brazilian.

Disappointment.

“When did Nico go back?” Nelson asked, watching Alain from across the room. He hadn’t immediately started harassing him, so that meant he wasn’t here to moan about Nelson. Which usually only left one thing.

“Last night,” Alain said. “Sacha picked him up from the airport.”

“Alright…” Nelson said, trying to figure out what Nico could possibly have done from France to send Alain here. “Are you alright?”

Alain shook his head and sat down. “I think I upset Bruno.”

“How did you manage to do that?” Nelson asked. “Even I’ve struggled to do that at times.”

“He doesn’t understand,” Alain said, quietly. Normally, it was easy to convince Bruno that he was right. It had been hard at first, hard to get Bruno to trust him when the teenager had been dead set against him, but it had changed since and Bruno would believe him in a heartbeat.

Alain was losing him.

“Doesn’t understand what?” Nelson asked, curiously.

Alain looked up at Nelson, trying to work out what he was feeling. It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be ashamed. He’d done the right thing.

“The Sennas didn’t exactly tell me to tell you that you could go to the press,” he admitted.

Nelson’s mouth fell open in shock and then that signature grin was back.

“Welcome to the dark side, Alain,” he said, patting the Frenchman on the back.

“I did it for Ayrton’s own good,” Alain snapped. He was not like Nelson.

“Sure,” Nelson said, folding his arms with that smug grin still on his face. “And I take it Bruno doesn’t agree with you.”

“Neither of them do,” Alain muttered. Bruno had almost turned back to the child Alain had known before Ayrton had died – the one that believed every word that came out of Ayrton’s mouth. There was going to be no convincing him.

“Well of course Ayrton doesn’t,” Nelson laughed. “He’s practically his father.”

Alain shuddered, not wanting to think about the truth behind the statement.

“So what are you going to do now?” Nelson asked.

“I don’t know,” Alain admitted. He didn’t even know where they were. He’d speak to Viviane, hope Ayrton hadn’t turned her against him as well. Someone had to see that he’d done the right thing.

“Bruno’ll come around,” Nelson said. “The boy couldn’t hold a grudge if he tried. Go home, Alain. Get away from it all for a little while.”

“Ignore it and hope it sorts itself out?”

“Always works for me,” Nelson said. “Look, it’s not your problem, is it? Go and relax for a little while. I’m sure the Sennas will be able to figure this out on their own. If not… well, I’ll have fun, anyway.”


	36. I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Precious By Depeche Mode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the huge delay. My laptop charger broke and I couldn't get the story off my laptop in time. But here we go now.

“We still need to come up with baby names, you know,” Delphine said, watching Nico traces the stretch marks on her stomach.

Nico nodded, apparently not paying much attention to what his wife had said, lost in his own thoughts. Delphine smiled, her heart warming as she watched the concentration on Nico’s face. She’d missed him so much whilst he’d been away. It had only been a short trip, and she knew it was going to be worse when he went to China in a few months’ time, but knowing he was so close had made it seem like forever.

“I was thinking whilst you were away,” Delphine teased. “If it’s a boy, we could name him after your father.”

Nico hummed and nodded. Delphine’s smile broadened.

“And I was thinking about what Nick was saying as well,” she continued. “You know he wants to be in the baby’s life so much. We should have his name as a middle name. And Sebastien’s, because we wouldn’t want to leave him out. Alain Nick Sebastien Prost. Does that sound good to you?”

“Great,” Nico murmured.

“Nico,” Delphine said, sitting up and snapping Nico out of his thoughts. “What’s up?”

“What?” Nico asked, as if he’d just been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“You’ve been acting strange since you came back,” Delphine said, taking hold of Nico’s hand and placing them on her lap with her own. “What are you thinking about?”

Nico closed his eyes and sighed, turning away from Delphine. He’d been trying to get the right words together for days. Delphine needed to know what had happened whilst he’d been in England. She knew everything about him, would know that something was up and Nico could not lie to her.

But how could he tell the truth without sounding mad?

“Something happened whilst I was in England,” he began.

“I know about the girl, Nico,” Delphine said, running a hand through Nico’s hair.

“What girl?” Nico asked, confused. He thought back over the past few weeks. So much had happened and he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d forgotten his team mate’s name, with so much else to worry about. He definitely didn’t remember any girl, or not one Delphine would think to bring up, anyway.

“At the party,” Delphine prompted. “You don’t need to lie to me, Nico. Nick has told me.”

“What girl?” Nico asked again, but this time to confusion was replaced by panic. He didn’t remember much from the party.

“You had your tongue down some girl’s throat, according to Nick,” Delphine said, her eyes flickering over her husband’s face, but it was clear Nico had no idea what she was talking about.

“I… I am so sorry,” Nico said. This had to be a joke, didn’t it? He would remember something like that, he was sure. “I have no idea why…”

“It’s alright,” Delphine said, smiling. “I know you. Honestly, I am just relieved that you did not kill your father after what he did.”

“It meant nothing,” Nico tried to insist, but there was no strength to his voice. “It can’t have meant anything. I don’t even remember.”

“I know,” Delphine said, cupping Nico’s cheek in her hand. “I know how much pressure you have been under. And if you want to…”

“I don’t want to,” Nico said. “I really do not want anything to do with that girl. Or any girl. The only girl I want anything to do is you, Delphine. I’m sorry.”

Delphine laughed lightly. “I know. So, if you aren’t thinking about some girl at a party, what are you thinking about?”

Nico stared blankly at his wife for a few moments. How had he managed to make someone like this love him?

“Nico?”

“I really do love you, you know,” he said. He was pretty sure she knew, but just in case any of this had persuaded her otherwise…

“I know,” Delphine laughed. “What is it you were going to tell me?”

Nico nodded, trying to figure out how he was going to tell Delphine without convincing her he was mad. Since he’d left England, he’d started to question what had happened there. It still didn’t make any sense and he couldn’t figure out _why_ they were trusting Ayrton. Part of him wanted to phone Alain to make sure he hadn’t dreamt it all, but that was a very small part.

“Did you hear about Ayrton?”

 

Bruno was out when the doorbell rang. Ayrton looked up from the book he’d been reading, confusion quickly turning to panic. They hadn’t attracted any attention since they’d arrived at Bruno’s cosy little house down south, out of the way from the busy town centre. After a couple of days, it had seemed nobody had followed them, but now it appeared they were wrong.

Ayrton stood, carefully putting down his book, and peeked through the blinds. Two men were stood outside, chatting to one another whilst they waited for the door to be open. The shorter looked barely old enough to be called a man, young and giddy as he grinned up at his friend. The taller man was older, and reminded Ayrton a lot like someone he really did not want to see right now.

Ayrton peered down the garden path. There was a car outside that he assumed belonged to one of the guests, but there was nobody else inside it. The rest of the street appeared to be deserted, but Ayrton wasn’t sure if he trusted that or not.

Before he could decide to let them in or not, the taller of the men pulled out a phone. Moments later, the mobile Bruno had left on the coffee table lit up.

_Nelson calling._

“Knew it,” Ayrton muttered to himself. So this was Piquet’s son then? He went back to the window, spying on the unwanted guests and trying to figure out who Piquet’s friend was, but he had no idea.

Another car pulled up a few moments later, one Ayrton recognised this time.

“I was just phoning you,” Nelson said, turning to Bruno as he struggled up the path with bags of shopping.

“Nelson!” Bruno said, beaming. “Pietro! I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“Well, we thought we’d pop by, seeing as you’ve basically disappeared off the face of the planet,” Nelson said, taking one of the bags from Bruno.

“How was testing?” Pietro asked, politely, taking another bag so Bruno could get the door open.

“Not bad. Better than Nelson’s,” Bruno said with a wink.

Nelson groaned, leading the three of them inside and heading straight for the kitchen to dump the bag down.

“I don’t understand how we got it so wrong,” he called back.

“You never know, maybe the car will be better on the streets,” Pietro said, optimistically. He went to follow Nelson into the kitchen when he spotted Ayrton and stopped dead.

“Ah, yes,” Bruno said, noticing where Pietro had stopped. He was going to have to get used to doing this. “This is my cousin, Ayrton. Ayrton, this is Pietro Fittipaldi.”

“Fittipaldi?” Ayrton asked, looking Pietro up and down.

“Emerson’s grandson,” Bruno said, nodding slowly and hoping Ayrton caught on. He’d been going through some of the modern drivers with his uncle, trying to figure out who Ayrton would have known about if he really was who he said he was. He hadn’t gotten around to mentioning Pietro yet, though.

“Of course,” Ayrton said, smiling and shaking Pietro’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Pietro beamed. “And you.”

“And this is Nelson Piquet junior,” Bruno said as Nelson came into the room.

“I could’ve guessed,” Ayrton said, the smile falling away a little.

Nelson smiled, shaking Ayrton’s hand as if there was nothing wrong.

“So this is why you’ve been hiding away then, Bruno,” he said. “We’re not good enough now you’re cousin’s on the scene?”

“It’s not like that,” Bruno said, laughing. “Just needed to get away from the press. You know how it is.”

“Dad didn’t help, did he,” Nelson said, sadly. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault,” Bruno said, waving away the apology. “You should have told me you were coming. I would have cooked something.”

“Nelson said that’s why he _didn’t_ tell you,” Pietro said, getting a playful smack on the back of the head from Nelson. He grinned up at Nelson, but his eyes fell onto Ayrton and he quickly looked away, blushing a little.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to have to cook something, aren’t I?” Bruno said, taking the rest of the bags into the kitchen.

 

Ayrton had thought his lunch with Nelson and Alain had been the most awkward meal he would have to endure, but at least everyone around that table _knew_ the awkwardness of the situation. This… this was definitely much worse.

Nelson, Pietro, and Bruno all chatted happily through the dinner, whilst Ayrton sat quietly, trying and failing to keep track of the conversations about racing. He kept a close eye on Nelson, waiting for him to turn with a snide comment about something or to set a trap for one of them to fall into, but there was nothing.

“The car can’t be _that_ bad, Nelson,” Bruno said, winding spaghetti around his fork.

“You try driving it,” Nelson said, shaking his head. “It’s like we took a perfectly good car and took out half the parts or something. It just doesn’t… _go_. Not even compared to you guys.”

“Thanks,” Bruno said, sarcastically. “It’ll be fine. Wait until you’re on the streets and see what happens.”

“That’s what I said,” Pietro said. “Come on. You can’t be champion for nothing?”

“Yes, but even the best driver can’t win in _that_ car,” Nelson said.

“Maybe it’s not too late to switch to Abt,” Bruno suggested, a grin in his eye. “I’m sure Lucas would _love_ that.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Nelson said. “Just because you don’t have any enemies.”

“I thought everything was forgiven between you and Lucas,” Pietro said, confused. He had never really spoken to Lucas properly. He didn’t involve himself with the group of drivers Pietro was lucky enough to be in, unlike Bruno and Nelson, who were almost like the big brothers of the group.

“I thought so too,” Nelson said with a small sigh. “But Lucas still has a stick up his arse after losing the championship.”

“He’ll be over it before the season starts,” Bruno tried to reassure him.

The grin in his eye was genuine, Ayrton noticed. Maybe the next generation really weren’t as screwed up as his. Or maybe Bruno was too nice to notice if Nelson junior was anything like his father.


	37. If you let me lean on you take my hand, I might get through it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Rocky By Austin Roberts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of miscarriage in this and the next chapter

Ayrton didn’t know if he should say something or not. He’d not said much all afternoon, watching as Bruno, Nelson, and Pietro chatted. It was clear Bruno and Nelson were close, and Ayrton tried to convince himself to not just judge Nelson because of his father. After all, if Nicolas had taught him anything, it’s that things didn’t work that way.

But Alain and Nelson weren’t the same – even if it _was_ hard to distinguish their actions from one another sometimes. Nelson was more manipulative and selfish, and if some of that hadn’t rubbed off on his son, Ayrton would be shocked.

Ayrton knew Bruno had noticed something was wrong, but his nephew was always trying to find the good in people, and Ayrton was sure he wouldn’t figure it out. Not without some encouragement, anyway.

Once Nelson and Pietro had left, Ayrton decided he was going to have to say _something_ , knowing Bruno was just going to worry he’d done something wrong otherwise.

Bruno worried about that a lot, Ayrton had found over the past couple of weeks.

“So, you and Nelson…” Ayrton said, joining Bruno in the kitchen as he washed up the dishes from lunch.

“I didn’t know they were coming,” Bruno said. “Nelson drops by sometimes.”

“You’re that close then?” Ayrton asked, taking the plate from Bruno to dry it up.

“Yeah, well,” Bruno gave a little shrug. “There are a few of us. We kind of support each other, you know? Me, Nelson, Pietro. A couple of others.”

“Well that…” Ayrton nodded to himself, trying to think of a way to finish the sentence. “That’s certainly good.”

“He’s not like his dad, Uncle Ayrton,” Bruno said, knowing exactly what Ayrton was thinking. After all, he’d listened to all the stories about how things had been between Ayrton and Nelson. He knew Nelson well enough to know why Ayrton was worried about his son, but he didn’t need to. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

“I wasn’t,” Ayrton lied.

Bruno grinned and shook his head. “Nelson’s good. He was the one that got me back into racing. Helped me get used to a kart again.”

“Really?”Ayrton said.

Bruno nodded. “You don’t need to worry about him, Uncle Ayrton,” he said. “Things are different now. We support each other, and the young ones like Pietro and the others. You’ll see.”

 

“Nico!”

Nico bounced off of the sofa, where he’d been looking through telemetry, racing up the stairs and almost falling into the bathroom, where Delphine was relaxing in the bath.

“What’s the matter? Are you alright?”

Delphine opened her eyes, frowning at her husband who looked as if he was scared the bath water had turned into lava. Nico let out a relieved sigh when he realised everything was ok, leaning against the bathroom door.

“I was thinking about Ayrton…”

Nico silently groaned and closed his eyes. He knew he should be grateful his wife didn’t think he was mad, and he was. He really was. He didn’t really know why Delphine had believed him and not just sent him to the mental hospital, but she had.

For some reason, though, Delphine had committed herself to working out how Ayrton had ended up in this situation. Nico couldn’t count the number of times in the past week he’d found his wife researching resurrection and looking up obviously fictitious stories to figure out what exactly had happened to his friend’s uncle.

Nico wasn’t sure what was better, but at least it stopped Delphine from doing anything _too_ stressful.

“What was it those angels or whatever they were said?”

“When?” Nico asked. He’d told her everything he knew, which just confirmed to him how mad this all was, but Delphine was doing everything she could to find connections.

“In the dream, Nico,” Delphine said, sitting up.

“Oh,” Nico said, thinking back. “Something about power and replacing dead people. I don’t know, Delphine. Why?”

“Ayrton’s supposed to have come back because of Jules, right?” Delphine said.

“I don’t know, I guess,” Nico said, sitting on the edge of the bath and looking at all the relaxation oils lined up.

“Well, wouldn’t that mean that that Ronald or whatever would have come back when Ayrton died?”

“Ronald?”

“That wasn’t his name,” Delphine closed her eyes, trying to remember. “Roland. Roland Rats-something.”

“Ratzenberger?” Nico said, fingers playing in the oily water. “I guess. Maybe.”

“We need to fine him,” Delphine said, definitely.

“What?” Nico laughed. “Del, slow down.”

“He’s had twenty years to deal with this,” Delphine said, standing. “He must know more than we do. Pass me a towel.”

Nico rolled his eyes, going across the room to get the towel. “How do you propose we find him then?”

“Do I have to do all the work?” Delphine said, putting a foot on the side of the bath to climb out. She slipped, toppling to the bathroom floor.

“Del!” Nico cried, rushing over and helping his wife up. “Del, are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Delphine said, pushing Nico away. She tried to sit up, hissing at a pain in her side.

“No you’re not,” Nico said. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“I am fine, Nicolas,” Delphine said, trying to pull herself up, but there was no way she could move with the pain in her side.

“I’m phoning an ambulance,” Nico said, rushing out of the room to get his phone.

“No, no Nico,” Delphine called, grabbing her husband’s hand.

“Please,” Nico whispered. “The baby.”

Delphine closed her eyes, placing her free hand on her stomach. “Pass me my dressing gown,” she said. “Then call an ambulance.”

 

The children were in bed. The work for the day was done. Nick leaned back in his arm chair, trying to persuade himself to stay awake past eight o’clock at night, no matter how tired his body felt. Patricia smiled over at him, handing him the remote for the TV without saying a word, resting her head on his chest.

Before he could find anything to watch, though, his phone started ringing.

Nick sighed. If this was work, they could wait. Patricia shifted over so he could pull his phone out of his pocket.

_Nico._

“What does he want now?” Patricia asked, knowing Nick was going to answer the phone.

“Who knows?” Nick said, kissing Patricia’s forehead. “I’ll try to get rid of him, ok?”

Nick looked at his phone again, considering once more whether he should just ignore the call before answering.

“Nicolas?”

“We’re going to lose it, Nick,” Nico said, tears clear in his voice even over the phone.

“What?”

“Delphine fell and we’re in hospital and she’s in pain and we’re going to lose the baby, Nick, I know it.”

“Nico, calm down,” Nick said, gently. He knew how stupid that sounded, but he needed to keep Nico calm and there was nothing he could do from another country.

“We’re so close, Nick. I- I- can’t… we’re so close.”

“You are not going to lose it,” Nick said, sternly. “Nico, calm down. You need to be there for Delphine.”

“I know, but-.”

“You’re in the right place,” Nick said. “If there’s anything wrong, the doctor’s will fix it. You’ve just got to be strong and be there for Delphine alright?”

“I can’t.”

“You can, Nico,” Nick said. “Come on, take a deep breath.” Nick paused, giving Nico a chance to follow the instruction. “Now, you’re not going to lose the baby. You’ve made it this far and, do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because little Nick is a fighter, isn’t he?” Nick said.

Nico huffed a laugh. “Thank you.”

“It’s alright,” Nick said. “Go and be there for Delphine, Nico. It’ll be ok. You’ll see. And… and if it’s not, I’m here for you, ok?”

“Thanks,” Nico said, again. “I’ll phone you when we get out.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nick said. “Just let me know when you get a chance.”


	38. Kimi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: miscarriage in this chapter

_“Are you alright?”_

_“You know that feeling when you need to be sick but you’re not actually being sick,” Delphine asked, staring at a glass of water on the kitchen side._

_“Are you ill again?” Nico asked, brushing her hair out of her face._

_“I’ll be better by mid morning, again,” Delphine said. “This is beginning to get annoying. I’ll push back the meeting with the clients to this afternoon.”_

_Nico frowned in thought, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “You don’t think this could be…?”_

_Delphine looked up at her husband, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “It can’t be. We’ve only just started trying.”_

_“You’re right, it’s probably nothing,” Nico said. “But… do you want to check?”_

Nico held onto Delphine’s hand tightly, trying to stare a hole in the wall opposite. Why were they still waiting? Every second they were stood out here was another second lost to save the baby.

The midwife rushed past, stopping when she saw the pair of them waiting. “I won’t be long. We’re a little under staffed and it seems today’s the day to be born, it seems.”

“Please hurry,” Nico said, trying to keep the fear and anger out of his voice.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

 

_“He looks so perfect,” Nico said, looking at the grey blur on the little card._

_“It’s a blob,” Delphine laughed, wriggling back against Nico and resting her head on her husband’s chest. “How can you even tell it’s a he?”_

_“Because Papas know these kinds of things,” Nico said. “Our little boy. He’ll be perfect.”_

_“And how do you know that?” Delphine asked._

_“Because he’ll be part you,” Nico said. “And anything that’s part you can be nothing less than perfect.”_

_“You’re so soppy.”_

_“But that’s why you love me, right?”_

It seemed like forever before Nico and Delphine were ushered into the room. The pain in Delphine’s side had subsided a little, but Nico still carefully guided her into the room and onto the bed.

The midwife’s smile seemed sickeningly patronising and Nico tried to ignore her. He knew she was just trying to be reassuring, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was going to work until he saw that the baby was fine.

 

_“Nico?” Delphine called, shaking Nico awake. “Nico, I think there’s something wrong?”_

_“What is it?” Nico asked, sleepily. He looked over at the alarm clock. It was four in the morning and whatever was wrong, it couldn’t be much worse in four hours’ time, could it?_

_“The baby,” Delphine said, tears welling in her eyes. “It hasn’t moved for days.”_

_“The midwife said he’s probably just comfy in there,” Nico said. “There isn’t much wriggle room.”_

_“I-I know,” Delphine said, hiccupping a sob. “But… but Nico, I’m bleeding.”_

“Alright, this is going to be a little cold,” the midwife said, squeezing the gel onto Delphine’s tummy, and Nico wondered if it was possible for her to do that bit without giving the warning.

Nico closed his eyes, still gripping onto Delphine’s hand.

“It’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”

 

_“We need to see a doctor or something,” Nico demanded once they arrived at the right ward. “Please.”_

_“Ok, Mr Prost. What seems to be the problem?”_

“There’s baby,” the midwife said, pointing to a still grey blob on the screen. Nico looked up, but seeing the image didn’t settle him. “Let’s just see if we can find the heart beat.”

 

_The midwife sighed, moving the sensor back and forth over Delphine’s stomach. “I’m sorry but-.”_

_“No.”_

Nico held his breath and screwed his eyes shut, straining to hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat. It wasn’t fair. They couldn’t lose him. Not now. They were so close.

 

_“I’m sorry but it looks like you’ve lost-.”_

_“No, we can’t have.”_

 

Key-mi-key-mi-key-mi-key-mi.

“There we go,” the midwife said happily. “One good, strong, healthy heart beat.”

“Oh my god,” Nico whispered, finally opening his eyes. He could see the dull little pulse of the heart beat on the screen, the sound like a life line filling his heart.

“Sounds like baby’s fine,” the midwife said. “Probably just a bit confused about what all the fuss is about.”

“It’s really ok?” Delphine asked, uncertainly.

“It really is,” the midwife assured her.

Key-mi-key-mi-key-mi.

“Kimi,” Nico whispered.

“What?”

“Kimi,” Nico said, a little louder. “As a name. If it’s a boy, I mean. It’s just an idea.”

“I can tell you if it’s a boy or a girl, if you like,” the midwife said, with a smile.

Delphine looked up at Nico, who now had a huge grin on his face.

“If you want to,” Nico said.

Delphine grinned back and nodded at the midwife.

“You’re having a little boy.”

“A boy,” Nico whispered, holding Delphine’s hand up to his lips. “We’re having a boy.”

“Kimi,” Delphine said, thoughtfully. “I like it.”


	39. May you stay forever young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Bob Dylan's forever young

Bruno crept down the stairs, trying to stay as quiet as possible and cringing when the penultimate step creaked loudly. It was early, and he’d wanted to head out for a run before his uncle woke. He knew his trainer was going mental at how laid back he’d gotten these past couple of weeks and he thought it best to get back into the swing of things before the season started up again.

Strangely, the light in the living room was already on and Bruno peered around the doorway to find his uncle fast asleep at the table, slumped over a dead laptop. Bruno sighed, a fond smile on his face.

“Uncle Ayrton?” he said, gently shaking his uncle. “Uncle Ayrton?”

Ayrton groaned, sitting up and stretching. Bruno grinned, still excited that this really was happening. The older Brazilian looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning,” Bruno said. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Please.” Ayrton said, looking around again. Judging by the light streaming in through the gap in the curtains, Bruno was right but he couldn’t figure out when he’d fallen asleep. “What are you doing up so early?” he asked, following Bruno into the kitchen.

“I’m going for a run,” Bruno said. “The real question is, what are you doing up so late?”

“I was on that video website you showed me,” Ayrton said. “You know, there’s more interesting things on there than dancing cats.”

“Rule number one of the internet,” Bruno said, filling up his water bottle. “There is nothing more interesting than dancing cats.”

“Not even your races?” Ayrton asked.

Bruno dropped the bottle. “You were watching my races?”

“Some of them,” Ayrton said. “You know that E series puts the whole race on the line?”

“Yeah, I heard,” Bruno said, his back to his uncle as he tried to sort out the coffee machine.

Ayrton’s grin fell as he watched his nephew’s hands shake.

“Bruno, is there something the matter?”

“No,” Bruno said a little too quickly. He turned and shot his uncle a smile but Ayrton could tell it was fake. Nervousness filled his eyes and Ayrton hadn’t seen that since they left Donington. Carefully, he came over, taking the coffee cup out of Bruno’s hand.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Bruno said. His eyes flicked about, trying to find something to look at besides his uncle, but when he did make eye contact, Ayrton had that worried look in his eye and he sighed. “It’s just… you don’t have to watch them.”

“I want to,” Ayrton said. “I always used to love watching you race. You were always so happy in a kart. You were at home.”

“Yeah but…” Bruno gave a small shrug. “Things changed.”

When he’d gotten back into racing again, he hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it had been before. But sitting in the kart again on the starting grid, the familiarity had hit him. It all felt the exact same. The crowd, the kart, the adrenalin. And he had to remind himself that Uncle Ayrton wasn’t going to come over with his water bottle and some last minute tip that would give him the edge over the competition. Had to remind himself that dad wasn’t going to be waiting on the finish line to lift him onto his shoulders. Everything else was the same, which just made what was missing hurt twice as much.

He’d thrown the kart into the wall on the first lap.

Ayrton sighed, sitting them both down at the breakfast table.

“Yeah, things have changed,” he said. “And I’m sorry. But I haven’t changed. And I still love seeing you do what you love, whether that’s defending like a God against the championship contender or pick off cars one by one. It’s beautiful, Bruno, and I am so proud of you.”

Bruno smiled sheepishly, looking down at the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ayrton said. “Now, you go for your run. I’ll finish my coffee.”

 

Ayrton had thought about going back to bed after Bruno had left but he had so many questions and decided a shower to wake himself up was probably a better idea. He’d just gotten dressed when the doorbell rang.

It was still pretty early and even now Ayrton still held his breath anytime someone came to the door. It was only a matter of time before the press came with about a million prepared questions and Ayrton had been enjoying the quiet life.

When he peeked through the window, though, he found it was only the young man who had come with Nelson the other week, looking quite distressed.

“I’m sorry,” the teenager spluttered as soon as Ayrton opened the door. “I know it’s early but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go but they’ve dropped me back down and granddad is going to be so disappointed again- oh.”

The boy finally looked up and found it was Ayrton stood at the door, not Bruno, and his cheeks turned a bright red.

“Come inside,” Ayrton said. “Bruno’s out at the moment but he should be back soon. Do you want anything to drink…?”

“Pietro,” the boy reminded him. “And yes, please. Water please. Sorry for bursting in.”

“It’s alright,” Ayrton said, leading him into the kitchen. “You sound a little upset.”

“Yeah, it… it’s nothing really,” Pietro said, sitting down and trying to calm himself down. “Just racing.”

“Oh?” Ayrton placed a glass of water in front of the teenager and sat opposite him. “I know I’m not Bruno and Nelson, but I’ve been around racers all my life. If you want to talk, I’m happy to listen.”

Pietro smiled weakly, glancing between Ayrton and the glass of water. He decided on the water, taking a long drink before setting it down.

“It’s Fortec,” Pietro said, slowly. “They… they said they were going to give me a shot in 3.5 next year, but they’ve changed their minds. Some sponsorship thing. A Red Bull driver probably.” The teenager hiccupped, feeling himself getting worked up again. “And I know it’s a stupid thing to get upset about because it isn’t like they’re dropping me and plenty of people do more than one year in F3, but I was just really excited and granddad was so proud and I don’t want to let him down.”

“Hey, calm down,” Ayrton said, gently, poking the glass of water closer to the younger man until Pietro picked it up again. “I’m sorry to hear they changed their minds. But I guess that gives you more time to prove yourself in Formula Three.”

Pietro sniffed and nodded. “I’m being stupid.”

“It’d not stupid,” Ayrton said. “You were promised something you really wanted and it was taken away from you. Anybody would be upset.”

“Granddad’s going to be so disappointed.”

Ayrton stopped, looking at the teenager. All he could see was Bruno. Had he been like this? Of course he had been. Ayrton knew how scared he was of being a disappointment. The difference was, Emerson was here to tell his grandson the truth. Ayrton… Ayrton had just abandoned his nephew.

“I’m sure he won’t be,” Ayrton said. “Not in you, anyway. He may be annoyed at them for lying to you, but I’m sure he’s just happy you’re doing what you love.”

Pietro shook his head. “He was so proud.”

“Of course he was,” Ayrton said. “But I promise you, what he cares about the most is the smile on your face when you get in that car – whatever car that is.”

Pietro sighed. He glanced up at Ayrton, immediately going bright red, and looked down at the glass again.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Bruno says the same thing sometimes,” Ayrton said with a smile. “Speaking of which…”

The front door had just opened and Bruno rushed into the kitchen, dripping with sweat and his water bottle empty.

“Pietro? What are you doing here?”

“Fortec are keeping me in Formula Three,” Pietro said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok,” the teenager said with a small smile. “I talked to Ayrton about it and… and I think I’m going to make this work.”


	40. Sending big waves into motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Fight Song By Rachel Platten

“I mean, it’s not even that bad,” Pietro said, helping Bruno prepare dinner. “I mean, the F3 is part of the European package next year, so maybe somebody will spot me.”

Bruno smiled, handing Pietro another vegetable to chop. He didn’t know what Ayrton had said to the teenager, but it must have been amazing. He knew how excited Pietro had been about the step up and was sure he must have been devastated.

“So what’s this European package?” Ayrton asked from where he was sat at the kitchen table, “supervising”.

“Oh, it’s a bunch of different series,” Pietro explained. “And they all do the same races. So you’ve got the European Touring Car Championship, Formula 3, the Senior Formula and a couple of super car series. And it’s really popular.”

“It’ll be a great experience,” Bruno said. “You’ll be at Ferrari in no time.”

“Well, we’ll see,” Pietro said, blushing a little. “I should get going. Mum’ll be wondering where I am.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Bruno asked, confused.

“I just… er… I just remembered I’d help mum with something,” Pietro said, going redder and redder by the second. “Another time?”

“Ok, sure,” Bruno said, following Pietro out of the kitchen and down the hall. Ayrton stood, going to the kitchen door but not quite following the younger men to the front of the house.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bruno asked, quietly, as he saw his friend out.

Pietro took a deep breath, then nodded. “It’s a setback, but I’ll make it work. Like you and Nelson.”

Bruno beamed at the smile on Pietro’s face, knowing it was genuine. He ruffled the younger man’s hair, laughing when Pietro pouted and tried to sort it out.

“Call me later,” Bruno said. “I’m making you dinner someday.”

 

“Can we talk about earlier?” Ayrton asked, quietly.

The two sat at the kitchen table with far too much food between them. Bruno had been quiet since Pietro had left and Ayrton wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the conversation that morning.

“Earlier?” Bruno asked, apparently too engrossed in spinning noodles round his fork to look up.

“The videos,” Ayrton said. “And what came afterwards.”

“Oh,” Bruno said, quietly. He glanced up at his uncle, then back to his food.

Ayrton put his knife and fork down. “Bruno, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bruno said. When he looked up at Ayrton, though, he knew that answer wasn’t going to cut it. “When I went back to racing… it wasn’t like it was before. It wasn’t… fun.”

He didn’t really know how to explain it. Karting just hadn’t been the same once he came back. He’d felt like he had something to prove, and that he was betraying his mother. Everything was just wrong, like he’d stepping into some alternate reality where he just didn’t belong.

“But if you didn’t enjoy it, why carry on?” Ayrton asked.

“Because I’d wanted to be a racing driver for as long as I could remember,” Bruno said. “I couldn’t imagine a life without racing. I still can’t.”

Ayrton watched as Bruno turned back to his food. He knew that feeling. He still remembered feeling so… lost, after he’d almost stopped racing, back in Formula Ford. Like there was nothing left for him anymore. Driving was the only thing he’d ever wanted. There was no back up plan.

“I understand,” Ayrton said, quietly.

“What… what are you going to do now?” Bruno asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, once Nico sorts out your passport and everything,” Bruno said. “I mean, it’s not like you’d need to work or anything, but I didn’t think… you’d really enjoy that. I thought you’d be bored without racing.”

Without racing.

Ayrton blinked stupidly. He’d had so much to think about since his return – mostly the chance – he hadn’t had a chance to think about the future.

“I… I don’t know,” Ayrton stuttered, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting him. He’d always known, since that conversation with Nico back at the hotel, how big not being himself was going to be but… he had a new life, but it was blank. He wasn’t a racing driver anymore. He wasn’t Ayrton Senna.

“Well,” Bruno said slowly, twisting his food around his fork. “You get a fresh start now. You can do whatever you want to do.”

Ayrton nodded, forcing himself to smile for Bruno’s sake. He could do whatever he wanted to do, but he’d already achieved everything he’d wanted in his… _other_ life. He’d already had the perfect life and he’d… he’d given that up.

Bruno watched as his uncle turned silently back to his food.

“You want to race, don’t you?”

“I always want to race,” Ayrton said. “It’s a life time of work. And I have none of that anymore.”

Bruno nodded. He’d had a feeling it was something along those lines. His uncle was right. It was hardly as if Ayrton could start working his way up through the junior series at his age.

But what if he didn’t have to?

“What about the senior formula?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback always welcome!


End file.
